Star Trek: New Horizon
by writer14
Summary: The Collective. The Borg Collective have been crushed once and for all. But for Captain Alexander Pressley the psychological scars of that war still haunt him. But an accident at a scientific research station could change everything.
1. Echoes of the Past

_Chapter One: The Useless Command_

_March 19, 2386_

_Tellar_

_Commander Alexander Pressley could feel the fear of everyone on the bridge as the Borg Cube loomed ever closer. Even on the viewscreen at minimum magnification it still seemed as if the massive ship still cast a shadow over the entire star system. Its mission, Pressley knew, was one of total and complete annihilation and Tellar was the latest stop. The only thing that stood in the way of the Borg destroying the Tellarite homeworld was this ship and this crew. He looked around the bridge of the _U.S.S. Formidable_ to see that his feeling was right, and that everyone was afraid. It was understandable as far as Pressley was concerned. Three hours ago the Starfleet task force had been forty-strong and now just the _Formidable_ was still in fighting shape. The fleet had stopped the first and second wave of Borg ships but a third wave was inbound, this lone cube was to be the forerunner of annihilation._

'Stop that!' _Pressley chastised himself. _'You are in command of these people and you're on the verge of losing your mind with fear! Control yourself!'

_Alexander Pressley took a deep breath and realised that his inner voice was right. He afforded himself a quick glance towards the Captain's Chair that he refused to sit in. He hadn't the right to sit down in that chair, even though he knew he would eventually have to once the shooting started. He felt panic swirling up inside his chest as his mind played the briefest of flashbacks; to the Captain sitting in that chair. No-one on the bridge, not Pressley or anyone else, had see the drone coming until it was too late, until it already had its hands on her and its assimilation tubules buried in her neck. It was the only time Pressley had ever wished death on another sentient being. _

_He mentally shook himself. He needed to focus on the task at hand. That Borg Cube was not allowed to get past the _Formidable_. No matter the cost. It was only then that the Ensign called out the warning from the tactical station, barely shielding the panic she felt. The warning that Pressley had been dreading for what felt like hours, but had only been seconds in the harshness of reality._

"Borg cube entering weapons range!"

_And over the communication system, in a voice so loud that it couldn't be ignored, the Collective spoke. _

"We are the Borg. You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile."

_February 24, 2389 [0745]_

U.S.S. Archer, _Captain's Ready Room_

It was the smashing of glass that had drawn Alexander Pressley back into the waking world. He had awoken from the nightmare with a start and, in doing so, had knocked his customary glass of lukewarm water from the bedside table into the nearby wall. His eyes darted around, trying to take in as much of their surroundings as possible so he could be sure that he wasn't back on the bridge of the _Formidable_. But he already knew where he was. He was in his ready room aboard a completely different ship, the one room except the bridge of his starship where he lived most of his days. He also knew that this ship was nowhere near Tellar. In the almost three years since the now famous 'Battle of Tellar' he had been plagued by nightmares as his subconscious replayed the same events over and over in his sleeping mind.

"Computer." He said into thin air and waited the half-second for the automated beep to tell him that the computer was ready for his inputs. "Music, playlist Pressley-five."

It was his counsellor, Lieutenant Pentar Kaymen, who came up with the idea that he played soothing music upon awakening from a Borg-related nightmare. Pressley had already informed the Lieutenant that the music did absolutely nothing to soothe him, but Kaymen had insisted. And so the Captain was sitting up in his bunk and listening to Johann Pachelbel's _Canon in D Major_. Naturally Kaymen had chosen the playlist himself, which the Captain had objected to, given that his preference for music was wildly different to the music that was being played. He didn't disagree that Pachelbel was a "soothing" choice of music, but for a child who grew up amongst Centaurans, it certainly didn't fit in with his tastes.

As Pressley began to let his mind recover from the trauma it had once again inflicted upon itself he slowly climbed out of his bunk and made his way to the bathroom. As a therapeutic way of calming himself he found a real-water shower a lot more comforting than a dose of archaic Earth music. As he stripped off he made a quick note of the time by passing the desk on his computer console; _0747_. At any moment Pressley knew his Yeoman would be contacting him to remind him of the daily department head's briefing in thirteen minutes.

"Best make this a quick shower then." He said aloud.

As he entered the bathroom and activated the shower, waiting a few seconds to allow the water to heat up, Pressley found himself staring into his reflection in the mirror. He wondered, not for the first time in the last year, when he had become so old. When he was a cadet he was often referred to as "baby face" by most of his friends and colleagues. Understandable given that when he was seventeen he looked fourteen. Now he was thirty-nine years old and he looked closer to fifty than forty. His eyes seemed tired, his hairline was beginning to recede and he was fairly certain he could see hints of grey forming in both his hair and stubble. Then there were the blemishes on his face; the long, thin scar along his right cheek he had received during the Dominion War, the scarring on his forehead he had received while he served as a young Lieutenant (junior grade) aboard the _Enterprise-E_ and the scars he had received on his neck from when...

He physically shook his head as he forcefully stopped his train of thought from going in a direction that he really didn't want his mind to go in. It was probably better that some memories were left well enough alone.

U.S.S. Archer, _Conference Lounge [0829]_

Captain Alexander Pressley sat at the head of the conference table listening intently to everything that each of his command staff were discussing. There were eight members of his crew here in total, including himself. At the moment it was the turn of his Executive Officer and friend of more than twenty-years to speak; Commander Harvey Nasar.

Pressley always felt a very slight twang of resentment towards his XO whenever he saw him. It was nothing serious; it was simply an automatic function of his brain. While both men were the same age, and the same species, Nasar had managed to age gracefully both physically and emotionally. The Commander still had a full head of dark blonde hair and his brilliant blue eyes still had a spark behind them.

"The mission time totalled around three hours." Nasar said to the room. "And I think the station was happy to receive their equipment. They'd been waiting for it for long enough."

Nasar was referring to the _Archer's_ last mission, a routine re-supply drop to the Federation research station _Hawking-8_. According to the station's commander they had ordered some research critical spare parts four months earlier and it was only now that they had been delivered.

"We are currently on our way to _Starbase 91 _to pick up some medical supplies that are bound for Caitia." Nasar continued. "At our current speed we should arrive in seven days."

With that came the end of Nasar's portion of the briefing. Pressley leaned forwards. "Is there anything else?"

A collective shake of heads from his assembled staff effectively called an end to the meeting.

"Dismissed." Pressley said. With that the seven people all stood and began to file out of the conference lounge. There was a part of the captain that wanted to stop Nasar, to talk to him. But the XO already had enough on his mind without his captain dumping a load of personal problems on him.

The _U.S.S. Archer_ was a one-of-a-kind starship. After the 'Battle of Tellar' the Corps of Engineering had salvaged an _Akira-class_ ship from the graveyard of starships that littered the orbit of the Federation planet. They had been given one objective; to create a starship that could fight the Borg. They had finished construction and Starfleet Command had decided to give Alexander Pressley the _Archer_. But, just as the ship had been launched, the war was over and the Borg had been completely wiped from existence. Now the ship had been running errands for the better part of the year since. It was enough for Pressley to make him feel like an obsolete part of a machine that was no longer required.

Captain Pressley stood up from the conference table and decided that now would be an excellent time to catch up on paperwork. As he made his way for the door he wondered, not for the first time, when Starfleet was going to decide what to do with him and his ship.


	2. Sunday

_Chapter Two: Sunday_

_February 27, 2389 [1819]_

Haldeman Research Station, _Officer's Lounge_

Lieutenant Ellinda Velora sat at the bar alone, as she did most days. Solitude was her preference after finishing her working day and today was no different. The young Centauran scientist found herself drifting off into a world of her own despite the volume of chatter emanating from the packed lounge. With one hand she found herself restlessly playing with her long, wavy black hair and with the other she nursed her beverage. Velora found her mind drifting off to her work tomorrow.

The scientists at the _Haldeman Research Station_ had been working for two years, some without breaks or holidays. The project they were working on had been surrounded by secrecy ever since its inception, mostly for reasons of Federation security but also partly for the protection of the scientists themselves. Due to the nature of the research Velora knew that if it became public knowledge the reaction would be largely negative. Most people wouldn't understand what was being accomplished here and some would, inevitably, react violently towards the research, the station and the people who worked here.

A twitch in her left arm snapped Velora back to reality. She looked down to realize that the twitch had caused her to spill some of her drink. Silently she cursed herself and the arm brace that she had been forced to wear since she was eighteen. It was during her first posting as a scientist aboard the starship _Einstein_ when there was an accident in one of the cargo bays. A grav-handler that was moving large shipping crates malfunctioned and the dropped crate landed on Velora's left arm, crushing it. Velora's arm had been restored thanks to some clever reconstructive surgery by the _Einstein's_ Chief Medical Officer but she had lost all use of it. An engineer aboard the ship had created the arm brace that she still used today that allowed the young scientist to use her arm normally. The twitch that she had just experienced meant that she needed to have the brace recalibrated. She made a mental note to stop by the engineering deck and have someone take a look at it when suddenly Velora was interrupted from her thoughts again.

"Hey Elli." A very familiar voice said from behind her. "Buy you a drink?"

Velora turned from the bar to see that the voice belonged to her friend and colleague Lieutenant Matthew Armitage. He was stood looking at Velora with a grin on his face holding a nearly empty glass of synthehol ale. She shot him a quizzical look.

"They're free." Velora replied, puzzled by the Human's question. Armitage gave a chuckle and sat down next to her.

"In that case can I _get_ you a drink?" He amended. Velora looked quickly at the mug of tea that was on the bar next to her. She noted that although it was half full it was probably also stone cold.

"Sure." Velora answered. This caused Armitage's grin to widen as he spun on the chair to face the bar and get the bartenders attention. As the young Human ordered the drinks Velora took some time to study him. She knew that her fellow scientists interest in her was more than friendly. For the last six months that the pair had been getting to know each other Armitage's intentions had become clearer. And it wasn't as though Velora herself wasn't interested in him. Armitage was quite handsome for a Human, with stunning blue eyes that Velora could get lost in. He had a way of making Velora feel better about herself whenever they were talking. She just knew deep down that she wasn't interested in starting that kind of a relationship with anyone. When Armitage turned to give Velora her green tea she already knew what his next question was before he even had a chance to say it.

"One green tea. Enjoy." He said, sliding the mug of piping hot tea across the bar so it sat in front of Velora.

"Thank you." She replied. She didn't take a drink from it, instead letting it cool on the bar. Armitage took a sip from his new synthehol ale before speaking again.

"Listen Elli, there was something I wanted to ask you." Armitage started awkwardly. Velora's heart fell slightly as he started. Even though she knew with absolute certainty what Armitage was going to say she had hoped that he wouldn't say it. This was a conversation that Velora didn't want to have with him. She made sure not to let her disappointment show.

"I was just wondering." He continued, still awkwardly. "If you might want to go on a picnic with me. I've been working on this Holosuite program of Memorial Park on Tellar. We could pack some food, sit in the sun and just…well, have a picnic. What do you think?"

Velora tried to keep an even expression on her face as she began her reply. "Matthew, I…"

"_Clements to Velora."_ The voice of Velora's civilian lab assistants came through her comm badge, temporarily saving her from having to let her friend down. She touched the badge.

"Velora." She replied.

"_We have that report finished Lieutenant."_ Clements informed her. _"It's ready to be shown to Doctor Bannister. I'll take it up to her now, if you…"_

"No, that's okay." Velora replied, cutting of Clements in mid-sentence. "Download the report to my PADD. I'll take it up to her myself."

"_Are you trying to steal my thunder?"_ Clements replied, in a sarcastic tone.

"I'll make sure you get full credit." Velora replied in a straight tone. She would never understand the Human's use of sarcasm. The PADD that Velora carried in a pouch on her belt beeped once, indicating that a file transfer had just taken place.

"_Do you have it?"_ Clements' disembodied voice asked.

"I have it. Velora out." She touched the comm badge on her chest, shutting down the communications link. She took a quick sip of her green tea and then stood up to leave. "I'm sorry Matt. I have to take this report up to the doctor straight away."

"That's okay." Armitage replied, unable to hide his disappointment and shifting uncomfortably in his chair, causing Velora a small amount of guilt. "We'll pick this up later."

"Okay." Velora nodded, silently hoping as she left the lounge that it would be much later when they continued that particular conversation.

Haldeman Research Station, _Command Deck [1831]_

Doctor Angela Bannister paced the command deck of the _Haldeman Research Station_. She was pacing so much that she was fairly sure that eventually she was going to wear a Bannister-shaped hole into the deck plating and fall through to B-Deck. The officers and scientists surrounding her at the various consoles around the command deck were on edge, believing Bannister's pacing was a sign that she was on edge herself. Truth be told it was a simple matter of boredom.

This Sunday wasn't going fast enough for Bannister at all, considering that the most important lab test of her career was occurring tomorrow. The doctor hadn't felt like this since she was a small child. Every year the day before her birthday she had grown restless, just as she was now, while she waited for the day to be over so she could wake up the next morning and open all her presents. If there weren't still several reports and analyses she was waiting for she'd be tempted to head to her quarters and knock herself out with a sedative just to get Sunday over with.

The gentle hiss of the turbolift door opening caught Bannister's attention and halted her pacing. She turned to the rear of the command deck to see Lieutenant Velora striding towards her, PADD in hand. Bannister allowed herself a chuckle as she noticed a few of the male scientists discreetly looking in the Lieutenant's direction. She couldn't blame them; Velora was a stunningly attractive young woman. She had long, wavy black hair that fell just below her shoulder blades, fiery red eyes that demanded attention from anyone looking towards her and a perfectly shaped body that was highlighted even more by the skin-tight Starfleet uniform. If Bannister was twenty years younger and that way inclined she might even have joined the men trying discreetly as possible to get a look at the young Centauran woman.

"Here's the biological report you wanted, Doctor." Velora said, holding the PADD out to the head researcher. Bannister took the PADD and allowed herself another inward chuckle. Perhaps the funniest part was that Velora was dense enough to not even realize the effect her beauty had on everyone. She skimmed quickly through the report. It was quite light by Velora's standards at only fifty-six pages in length.

"Thanks Velora." She replied. "I'll look it over later."

Bannister was sure Velora was about to say something else, but she was interrupted by the lights dimming and being replaced by the glow of a green alert klaxon flashing. Bannister put the PADD down on the nearest console and turned to the station's Chief of Operations; an older Vulcan male called Lieutenant Commander Sovak.

"Report." Bannister demanded, noting that Velora had fallen in step behind the older scientist.

"A quarantine alert has been triggered." The Vulcan replied in monotone. His fingers worked across his console as he tried to garner more information from the situation.

"Where?" Bannister asked, an urgent tone taking hold of her.

"There has been a quarantine breach on C-Deck." Sovak responded. "Section twenty-six bravo. A full lockdown protocol is in effect."

As the location of the quarantine breach sunk in to Bannister, dread and fear began to overwhelm her. Bannister glanced at Velora and saw the same fear etched in the Centauran's face.

"Alert security immediately. Close the bulkhead doors to that section and have security guards posted at all access points. No-one gets in or out. And find out how many of our people are in that section." Bannister ordered, suddenly going from impatient scientist to station commander. She turned to Velora, who seemed unsure of what to do next. "Take a station Velora. We may need you here for this."

Velora nodded and Bannister could see that she attempting to mask her fear. The young scientist was doing a poor job of it, but she was trying nonetheless. As she rushed over to take an unoccupied station, Bannister could only wish she was still bored.


	3. Awkwardness

_Chapter Three: Awkwardness_

_February 28, 2389_

U.S.S. Archer, _Medical Examination Room 3, Deck 8 [1041]_

Doctor Laura Pembridge was the Chief Medical Officer of the _U.S.S. Archer_ and had been a Physician in Starfleet for more almost twenty years. She had been to the farthest reaches of Federation space as a surgeon, treating a variety of ailments, diseases and viruses. She had even begun her career as a Starfleet doctor as an OBGyN immediately after graduating from Starfleet Medical. But now that she was on the receiving end of a gynaecological examination she felt extremely uncomfortable. She tried to tell herself it was simply because she was a private person but she knew the truth. It was because, with her ankles in stirrups and her legs pried as far apart as they would go, one of Pembridge's own subordinates was currently conducting a physical examination on her and had her head up between her legs. Currently Ensign Alana Stein was scanning her with a tricorder.

Ensign Stein re-emerged from down between Pembridge's legs and began checking the readings she had gotten on her tricorder. Pembridge was two months pregnant and this was her third checkup since she had gotten the news just over a month ago. She felt like she was fast becoming acquainted with Stein in a way she was only acquainted with one other person; her fiancée back on Earth, Kenneth Manning.

"Well Doctor," Stein began, closing the tricorder. "Everything looks fine down there. You can take your legs down from the stirrups now."

Relieved, Pembridge quickly withdrew her legs from the stirrups and laid them flat against the exam bed she was lying on. Stein put the tricorder down on a nearby work surface and moved over to the bed. She pushed the stirrups away to either side and helped the older doctor as she climbed down from the examination bed.

"Because it's going to be a few weeks until you reach Earth and have your next exam I'd like to schedule you for another appointment when we reach the Starbase." Stein said.

"Just got to have one last goodbye, huh?" Pembridge said as her feet hit the ground and she stood herself up. Stein allowed herself a grin and the two women chuckled. Stein stepped aside as Pembridge moved towards the curtained off area of the examination room, where her uniform currently resided. She drew the curtain around her for privacy and wondered, as she had done every time she got dressed after one of her appointments, why she did that. It wasn't as though Ensign Stein hadn't seen it all before. Pembridge shrugged and chalked it down to a simple character quirk.

As she removed the medical gown and hung it up on one of the provided clothes hooks she heard Stein moving things around on the other side of the curtain. "Will you be leaving us as soon as we get to Starbase ninety-one?"

"I'm afraid so." Pembridge responded, slipping her underwear on. "Once the medical supplies are aboard the _Archer_ will be heading straight for Caitia."

"You must be excited." Stein remarked. "Settling down on Earth, getting married and starting a family."

Pembridge thought about this as she pulled on her trousers. She was excited. She had met Kenneth ten years ago while she had been visiting her parents during shore leave. It hadn't taken them long to start a serious relationship. But in all that time Pembridge had been away from him, and Earth, serving aboard various starships. While she had been serving aboard the _Formidable_ during the war with the Borg he had proposed to her via subspace. Even after the ship was destroyed during the Battle of Tellar nearly three years ago she still hadn't managed to get home. She had been due to settle down with him last year and had even accepted a posting at Starfleet Medical, but Captain Pressley had asked her to set up the medical department on the _Archer_ and she had taken another year to do a favour for her old friend. But once they reached Starbase 91 Pembridge was heading back to Earth to begin a new chapter in her life. She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she hadn't realized the Stein was talking.

"I'm sorry Alana, what?" Pembridge asked, hoping Stein would repeat whatever she had just said, while she pulled the blue turtleneck tunic that she wore under the standard Starfleet jacket.

"I said I can put you in touch with an old classmate of mine from the Academy if you like." Stein repeated. "Lieutenant Munroe, an OBGyN working at Starfleet Medical. He's very good."

"He!?" Pembridge exclaimed and slid the curtain open dramatically. Stein's eyes were wide and she wore an expression of amusement as she looked at her Chief Medical Officer. Pembridge realised that she had opened the curtain before managing to get the tunic over both her arms, leaving her mostly topless and her breasts exposed. Pembridge blushed and spun to face away from Stein, sliding the tunic on and fastening it as quickly as possible.

"Well," Stein began, amused. "Now I've literally seen it all doctor."

"Shut up!" Pembridge shouted in embarrassment. She put her jacket on but didn't bother to fasten it up. She picked up her comm badge and began to fasten it to her jacket as she continued talking. "You want me to have a male OBGyN? I get uncomfortable having _you_ as my OBGyN."

"It's just an option, doctor." Stein replied, holding her hands up in surrender. "You can choose whoever you want."

Pembridge stood in the exam room for a moment in thoughtful silence, before saying quickly; "How good is he?"

"Very good." Stein responded, nodding. "And very professional."

"I'll give him a call." Pembridge said, reluctantly. Stein grinned.

"Already done. You have an appointment the day after your transport gets back to Earth. Oh-eleven-thirty hours." Stein's grin only got wider under Pembridge's glare. The Chief Medical Officer kept up with the glare as she went for the exit to the examination room.

"You know Alana," Pembridge began. "I have a feeling you're going to make a good Chief Medical Officer someday."

Stein beamed with pride as Doctor Pembridge exited. "Thank you doctor!"

U.S.S. Archer, _Medical Labs, Deck 8 [1055]_

As the door to the medical examination room slid open stopped leaning on the wall Captain Pressley stood up straight, hoping he had gotten the right room this time. A young engineer, who had obviously seen a Physician with something embarrassing, had turned a bright pink and double-timed it at the sight of the ship's Captain standing outside her exam room. The last thing Pressley wanted was to gain a reputation as a stalker of the medical labs. So he was relieved when his friend and Chief Medical Officer appeared from the room. She seemed slightly surprised to see him.

"Alex!" She exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"I had a gap in my schedule and thought I'd come down and make sure everything was okay." He replied, returning the smile that formed on Doctor Pembridge's face.

"How sweet." She responded. The silence that followed was quickly broken by the doctor when she noticed that Pressley's smile had turned to a look of concern. "What?"

"Everything _is_ alright, isn't it?" He asked, concerned.

"Yes, yes." She laughed slightly. Pressley looked more than a little relieved. They stood in the corridor for another moment. "So, is that gap in your schedule long enough to accompany me to the lounge for a tea?"

"Absolutely." Pressley responded, smiling. They set off at a leisurely pace towards the nearest turbolift.

"Where's Harvey?" Pembridge asked, referring to the ships Executive Officer; Commander Nasar. "We should ask him to join us."

"I already asked him if he wanted to come down here and meet you out of your exam. But apparently he's busy with paperwork." Pressley explained.

U.S.S. Archer, _Commander Nasar's Quarters, Deck 2 [1101]_

Commander Harvey Nasar sat the terminal in his quarters and watched, mesmerised, as the Federation logo slowly rotated on his screen. He had been doing this for ten minutes now while he waited for his communication signal to be connected. Nasar found himself wondering whether the Federation would consider a request for the logo to be changed, as he found himself being bored almost to sleep. He snapped back to attention when the logo was replaced with a face. The woman who was now pictured on his terminal was a pretty, petite blonde with dark brown eyes and a pale complexion. It also happened to be the face of Jennifer Pressley, a Lieutenant Commander in Starfleet and Captain Pressley's little sister. She smiled when she saw who was contacting her.

"Harvey!" She almost shouted excitedly.

"Hello Jennifer." Nasar replied. "How are you?"

"I'm fine. Tired but fine. We've been working on some pretty groundbreaking stuff here. Though I can't really tell you about it." Jennifer explained. Nasar recalled the details of her latest assignment as a science project leader at the research station _Asimov_.

"Classified?" He asked.

"No," She started with a cheeky grin spread across her face."I just know you won't understand most of the words I'd use to describe it."

"That was uncalled for." Nasar said in a sarcastic tone. "Look I don't have long. The _Archer_ will be swinging by your sector of space in a week on our way to Caitia. I was going to try and convince Alex to let us make a stopover at _Asimov_ if you're okay with it."

"Of course I'd be okay with it." Jennifer replied cautiously. "But I get the feeling you won't just be dropping by because you miss me."

"I'm going to tell him." Nasar said and then sat back, allowing his words to sink in. Nasar had met Captain Pressley at the Academy during their second year. It was during their fourth and final year that Jennifer had enrolled at the Academy. When Jennifer passed her second-year exams he had taken her out for a drink. That night had ended at around oh-six-hundred with them sleeping together. They had vowed never to tell Jennifer's older brother about the incident. Despite admitting it was a mistake, they kept repeating the encounter whenever their paths crossed.

It was during their time serving together at _Starbase 175_ that they realised they were actually in love with one another. That was ten years ago and, although they had kept their relationship going, they had also kept it a secret from Alexander Pressley.

"Any particular reason?" Jennifer asked, an eyebrow raised in an inquisitive manner.

"It's been ten years. I'd say it's about time." He answered. He checked the chronometer in the top corner of his monitor display. "I have a meeting with him in a few minutes."

"Well, good luck." Jennifer said, clearly lost for words. Then she added; "I love you."

"I love you too." Nasar replied and then shut down the communication. He let out a relieved sigh glad that, for once, she hadn't been too inquisitive. He picked up the small box that lay on his desk and opened it, admiring once again the Centauran-diamond ring that sat inside. He hadn't been completely dishonest about his reasons for wanting to tell the Captain about his and Jennifer's relationship. It was "about time" for Nasar to come clean. It was also about time that he asked Jennifer the question.

As Nasar stood from his desk he began to psyche himself up for what had the potential to be the most awkward conversation of his life.


	4. Control

_Chapter Four: Control_

**Haldeman Research Station**

**Command Deck**

"I don't care how it happened right now Sovak!" Doctor Bannister shouted, letting her frustration boil over. "Right now I just need to know how many people were down there."

"Yes doctor." Sovak didn't even look up from his console as he worked on his assigned task. That was one of the main reasons that Bannister had picked Sovak as her Operations Officer and her de facto second-in-command. Even though she had unfairly raised her voice towards him and allowed frustration to get the better of her Sovak simply acted as though he had just received a normal order. Completely cool under pressure, something that Bannister wished she had a firm grasp on. She wondered for a moment what was going through the Vulcan's mind, but she quickly dismissed such a thought. She didn't have time for idle curiosities.

No-one on the Command Deck had much of an idea what was going on. The only information available was that a quarantine alert had been triggered in a sensitive laboratory aboard the station, and one that housed some extremely sensitive research materials. There was only one thing that could have caused a quarantine lockdown to take effect, but Bannister refused to believe in a worst case scenario. There was no way that what she thought had happened, could have happened. It was impossible. She afforded herself a look around the Command Deck at the officers on duty. Besides Sovak and herself there were only four others; Lieutenant Velora, the station's security chief Lieutenant Sanchez and a junior grade Lieutenant and an Ensign whose names Bannister didn't know. Aside from Sanchez, each one of them was projecting an aura of nervousness that Bannister could feel in the air. She decided that it was time to take control of the situation, which would hopefully ease the tension in the room.

"Lieutenant Velora," she turned to Velora, who had taken a position at one of the auxiliary consoles towards the rear of the Command Deck. "Has quarantine been breached outside the lab?"

The young Centauran only had to work for a few seconds before finding that information. "No doctor."

"Lieutenant Sanchez," Bannister turned to the Chief of Security after Velora had spoken. "Are the security teams in position?"

"Yes ma'am." Sanchez replied. In the event of a quarantine breach, even in a simulation of such an event, eight security teams were to take positions guarding all possible entrances to and from the source of said breach. Their task was to make sure no-one went in and no-one came out, in hopes of stopping the contamination spreading.

"Good. Have security team one move up to the entrance to the lab. But under no circumstances are they to enter. Is that understood?"

"Aye doctor." Replied Sanchez. As he opened communications to relay the orders to his security personnel Bannister turned to the two junior officers on the deck. Their fear was obvious for all to see, but Bannister didn't have time to ease their fears if she was to gain control of the situation.

"Lieutenant," she barked, recognizing the senior of the two Starfleet personnel. "Make sure that all non-essential personnel are moved to their quarters. Nobody moves without authorization. Ensign, help him.

"Aye aye." The Lieutenant replied, rallying himself to do his task. The Ensign didn't reply and merely nodded along with a vague expression on his face as the Lieutenant began to give orders.

"I have a visual of the lab interior, Doctor." Sovak announced from his position at Ops. Bannister turned to face the Command Deck's main viewscreen.

"On screen." Bannister ordered. Sovak nodded, turned to his console and within a few seconds she and the rest of the people on the Command Deck were staring at the interior of the laboratory via the main viewscreen. Bannister couldn't help but gasp when she saw the current situation inside the science lab.

The lab was down to emergency lighting, which made it quite difficult to see, but the scene seemed clear enough. There were four scientists, identifiable by their lab coats, lying prone on the floor. Bannister couldn't tell whether they were dead or simply unconscious. The isolation chamber that stood in the corner of the lab stood untouched, which made Bannister breathe a sigh of relief. Everyone was staring at the image on the main viewscreen. Everyone except Sovak who was, as ever, working away at his console.

"Life signs?" Bannister asked in a tone so hushed that she barely heard herself speak.

"Reading five life signs inside the lab." It was Velora who had responded. Her keen Centauran hearing had meant that she picked up the question hat Bannister had uttered almost under her breath. She re-counted the number of scientists she could see on the screen again and again, unable to see a fifth person amongst them.

"Security team one is in position, ma'am." Lieutenant Sanchez announced from his security station. The pronouncement had broken Bannister's concentration, but only for a moment and not enough to cause her to miss the flicker of movement to the right of the lab.

"Pan the camera right." She said with urgency, taking steps towards the viewscreen in a vain attempt to help her see the situation with more clarity. The view on the screen obediently shifted to the right and it was the turn of confusion to set in for Angela Bannister. The fifth life sign was another scientist; a woman from what the doctor could tell from looking at the back of her head. She appeared to be working away on a small computer console that was embedded in the wall.

"What's she doing?" Bannister asked aloud, even though it was a mostly rhetorical question.

"Difficult to determine." Sovak replied. "There appears to be a localized power outage in the science lab. It is running on emergency power only. It is possible that she is trying to contact us for assistance, or perhaps trying to ascertain the situation for herself."

Bannister moved towards Velora's terminal with a sinking feeling. She hadn't taken in a word that Sovak had said. However logical it was there were only a handful of people who knew what was kept inside the isolation chamber and, even though the chamber itself appeared to be unharmed, Bannister had a gut instinct that she couldn't ignore. She brought herself up behind Velora and put one arm on the back of the chair she occupied, allowing her to lean in over the young Centauran's shoulder.

"Check their life signs, Lieutenant. Do as a thorough a scan as possible." She ordered.

"What am I looking for?" Velora asked, a question that wasn't unreasonable under normal circumstances. However these were anything but normal circumstances.

"Anything out of the ordinary." She responded, hoping that Velora wouldn't follow up on the vaguest of responses that Bannister had given her. For her part the Lieutenant merely did what she had asked and began her scans. She watched the information appear on the screen even as she had it dictated to her.

"One Centauran life sign," Velora began. "Two…no three Human. One Trill. Two female, three male. I'm not picking up anything 'out of the ordinary' in their life signs, Doctor. Would you like me to run the scan again?"

Bannister didn't reply immediately, instead pouring over the information that was in front of her. She looked at every detail of the life sign scan that Velora had just taken. There was nothing in it that was out of the ordinary for a Centauran, three Human's and a Trill. Other than the fact that the Trill female, the one who was working at the console, was a week and a half pregnant. Somehow that served to make the entire ordeal all the more disturbing.

"No. Thank you Lieutenant." She said. She slowly walked back to a more central position on the Command Deck, noting that Sanchez and the other two officers were still diligently working away at their station and that the woman in the science lab was doing the same. Bannister was becoming frustrated again. Every new piece of information, it seemed, served to deepen the puzzle rather than lead to an answer. Without turning her gaze away from the viewscreen, she asked Sovak; "Do we have communications in that room?"

"Affirmative." The Vulcan replied. She heard a gentle mechanical beep from behind her. "Channel open."

"Crewman this is Doctor Bannister. Identify yourself." The Doctor said, ignoring the fact that Sovak had had preempted her orders. The woman, whom Bannister had noticed was wearing a Starfleet uniform underneath her lab coat, either hadn't heard her or was simply refusing to acknowledge her.

"Crewman, I repeat, this is Doctor Angela Bannister. Stand down. That is a direct order." Again there was no response from the woman, not even a flinch or a break from her working on the computer console. She was about to turn to Sovak and ask him to run a diagnostic on the communications systems when she noticed movement from the left side of the picture. Her attention, however, was quickly taken away from the unfolding scene in the laboratory by the sound of an alarm at the Ops station.

"Sensors and long range communications are offline." Sovak reported.

"Doctor!" Velora shrieked in barely contained panic and Bannister noticed that the Centauran's attention was still on the main viewscreen. She had obviously noticed the movement that Bannister had as she had panned the camera in the lab to the left again. The scientists that were lying prone were gone. One of them still remained on the viewscreen, a Human male, and he was standing up and facing the door to the lab, a vacant expression on his face. It was in that moment that she saw what had caused Velora's panic. On the man's face was what looked like a bio-mechanical implant.

"That's impossible." Bannister whispered to herself. "Sovak, cut all power to the-"

She didn't have a chance to finish the sentence before the door to the laboratory slid open and light poured in from the corridor outside. All Bannister could do as events unfolded with a rapid pace. She didn't even bother to mask the terror that she felt engulf every part of her.

**Isolation Labs**

Lieutenant (junior grade) Eric Armstrong was bored out of his mind and sick to death of constant quarantine drills. He wasn't usually bothered about scheduled drills, but it was the unannounced, surprise drills that really got to him. He had just been about to clean up at the regular "security grunts'" poker game before the quarantine alarm had sounded and this particular drill had begun. He had been making some good progress getting Lindsey Sovak to actually sleep with him as well.

Now he and his four-man security team were outside Isolation Lab 3, the "source" of the quarantine breach, guarding it. Nothing in, nothing out were his orders from Lieutenant Sanchez. So when the door opened he wasn't surprised to see a Starfleet Ensign step through. Obviously this was a part of the drill. He stepped forward to challenge him. When the man turned to face him, however, Armstrong saw something that struck more fear into him than he had ever felt before. There were cybernetic implants on his face, they looked as if they had almost burst through his skin, and his eyes were yellow and glazed over.

"We are the Borg." The Ensign said. He stepped towards Armstrong as he tried to draw his phaser. He didn't even manage to get it out of its holster before the Ensign raised his right arm to the Lieutenant's neck. The last thing that Armstrong felt was a numbing fear as assimilation tubules buried themselves into his neck, and the Ensign-turned-Borg stated in a matter-of-fact tone; "Resistance is futile."

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

I've taken the dates out from here on in because I was starting to get frustrated trying to tie everything into the story by the minute. So, unless there's flashbacks, I won't be using those anymore.

Nenifer121: Thanks for the comments, glad the story has piqued your interest. The reason Dr. Pembridge has had as many exams as she has is because she's the Chief Medical Officer of a ship that visits alien planets on a weekly basis. I think personally they'd want to keep an eye on her for that reason; one every time the _Archer_ visits a new planet or station. When she gets back to Earth it'll be a different story.

Tommy-JM: Cheers for the review. Keep reading and I'll try and keep your hopes alive.  


* * *


	5. Friendly Sparring

_Chapter Five: Friendly Sparring_

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U.S.S. Archer, _Gymnasium, Deck 9_

Master Chief Petty Officer Melzora felt her long, fiery red hair fall out of its carefully constructed bun as she started to swing her _Mraka_ with ever more vigour. The Andorian stopped and let out a long, frustrated sigh. She dropped the ceremonial Andorian blade to the crash mat she was standing on and began to working on tying her unnaturally long hair back up again. Melzora found herself becoming increasingly easy to frustrate in the past few months. Like many of the others aboard the _Archer_, she signed on because of the promise of action. Their mission had been a simple one; stop the Borg at all costs. That mandate had been quashed after the scientists of Starfleet had managed to write a shutdown code into the Borg Collective. Melzora wondered if she would be better served with a transfer.

She quashed that thought immediately as she finished bunching up her disobedient hair again. Captain Pressley had done her a great personal honour when he had her assigned to the _Archer_. She had served with the Captain aboard the _Formidable_ for five years during the height of the Borg War. When he had been given command of the _Archer_ he insisted on having Melzora as his Chief of Security, despite her status as a non-commissioned officer. When Starfleet Command had initially refused his request, stating that a non-com could not realistically make a good department head, Pressley had handed in a transfer request. He, quite reasonably in Melzora's view, stated that he either be given complete control over his command staff choices or Starfleet could find him another assignment. After he had won that battle Melzora felt as though she owed him a great debt of honour. She had vowed to stay by her Captain's side until she was no longer wanted.

She took the _Mraka_ from the mat and began trying to focus her mind once more and clear it of frustration. Melzora started her exercises again, not breaking from them even when she heard the large double doors to the gymnasium open. She carried on as if nothing had changed, attempting to keep her mind focused on the task at hand.

"You handle your blade well." A familiar, deep voice spoke up after a few moments. Melzora took time to finish her current exercise before stopping. She turned to face Lieutenant Kor'vec, the man who had entered the room and commented on her ability with the _Mraka_. Kor'vec was a Klingon and one of Melzora's senior security officers. In his left hand he was carrying a _Mek'leth_. He was not dressed in his Starfleet uniform, instead wearing a large white robe that covered his workout gear. She nodded in greeting to the Lieutenant.

"May I join you?" Kor'vec asked. Melzora nodded again, this time wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead as she did. With a sideward glance she checked a nearby chronometer to see that she had been working out for nearly an hour. Today wasn't the first day that she had lost track of time exercising lately. Not that her exercises made a difference to her frustration and stress levels. Then all of her attention was caught when she saw her Klingon colleague remove his robe and reveal the skin tight, black t-shirt he wore underneath. Melzora caught herself staring a fraction too long at the Klingon's muscular body wasn't exceptionally well hidden by the workout gear. She mentally shook herself, internally embarrassed to be staring at one of her subordinates in that manner.

The Andorian found herself watching Kor'vec as he moved the _Mek'leth_ though the air gracefully. She found herself mesmerised by the precision of it and amazed that such a heavyset, muscular man could move so elegantly. She tore her gaze away from the spectacle and once more tried to clear her mind and focus. With the attractive Klingon stood no more than a few inches away from her it took a lot more concentration than it had before, but Melzora found a rhythm and began going through her exercises again. After a few minutes she noticed out of the corner of her eye that Kor'vec had stopped and was watching her.

"Something on your mind Lieutenant?" She asked, not breaking from her routine.

"I was just looking at your blade. I do not recognise it." He replied.

"It's a _Mraka_." She explained. This time she did stop her routine. Turning to face Kor'vec she held the blade up for him to get a better look at it. "It's an ancestral Andorian weapon. They're passed down through generations of Andorian warriors. This one belonged to my father."

"It seems most…unwieldy." He replied, the ridges on his forehead furrowing into a frown. Melzora offered him the blade. He took it in his free hand, still gripping his _Mek'leth_ in the other, and hefted it for a moment. He swung it around twice with some force and then held it up and appraised the full length of the blade. "There is too much weight at the tip of the blade. It would land a vicious blow to an enemy but it makes the weapon unbalanced, harder to handle."

Melzora raised an eyebrow and felt her antenna raise as well. Kor'vec held out his _Mek'leth_ to her, inviting her to take it. She grabbed the Klingon blade in one hand and hefted it, appreciating it's relatively light weight. She mirrored the movements that Kor'vec had gone through moments earlier with her own blade; swinging it with some force to get a feel for it. She was suitably impressed by its balance. She brought the blade up close to her face and admired the painstaking work someone had put into forging this particular blade.

"This is the _Mek'leth_, a true weapon of a warrior." Kor'vec explained with a great deal of pride in his voice. "It is light and the weight is perfectly balanced. A deadly weapon…in the right hands."

Melzora, surprised, turned to look at the man who appeared to be baiting her into a challenge. When she looked at him she saw the same frustration she was feeling mirrored in his eyes. She studied the Klingon for a few seconds, before allowing a grin to spread across her face. "Care to put your words to the test?"

"I thought you would not ask." He replied, his voice now betraying the underlying frustration the Andorian woman realised they were both feeling. Melzora also thought she could detect a hint of relief that she had laid down the challenge to him. They were kindred spirits; two warriors trapped aboard a starship that had no enemies to fight. They exchanged blades and spent the next minute preparing themselves for the sparring match. When both combatants were ready they took five paces apart, to the outer edges of the crash mats that were laid out in the gymnasium. And then the battle begun.

Both opponents sized each other up for a moment, trying to decide what their first move was going to be. It was Melzora who acted first; charging towards Kor'vec. She feigned a swing of her _Mraka_, but the Klingon warrior wasn't fooled and when she swung a snap kick out towards his midriff he easily deflected it. Attempting to catch her off guard he aimed his knee straight for Melzora's stomach and connected with full force. The Andorian didn't double over as Kor'vec had obviously hoped, instead jumping backwards to avoid the _Mek'leth _that was aimed to skewer her. _'This definitely isn't a fight for the faint hearted then_.' She thought to herself.

Melzora quickly moved to her right and swung her _Mraka_ at Kor'vec, a move that he parried. He turned towards her and brought his _Mek'leth_ towards her stomach. She parried and attempted to return the blow, aiming for his shoulder. The battle quickly settled into a rhythm of attack-parry-counter with neither warrior managing to claim the upper hand. After a few minutes she decided that she was going to try and break the rhythm and attempted to kick Kor'vec in the knee, hoping to bring him down. The move backfired quite badly for her as the Klingon pushed her leg away and caught her off balance. She saw the blade coming down towards her and, in a split second, dropped her _Mraka_ and grabbed Kor'vec's wrist with both hands, struggling to hold back the blow. She felt the force he was putting behind the swing soften and she quickly let go of his arm with one of her hands to block the incoming blow to the side of the head with his other fist. They stood in the centre of the gymnasium, locked in this position for several seconds, when Kor'vec caught Melzora by surprise. He pulled her towards him with some force, pressed his body roughly against hers and kissed her.

Melzora found herself returning the rough kiss and Kor'vec dropped his _Mek'leth_, pulling her against him and holding her there with his quite formidable Klingon strength. After a minute of kissing Melzora used all of her strength to break the hold he had on her and push him backwards a step or two. She scrutinised him for a moment, her frustration had reached boiling point during the fight and she could tell his had as well. Both of them were gasping for breath. Against her better judgement Melzora threw Kor'vec to the floor as viciously as she could managed and then flung herself at him, suddenly realizing why simple exercising hadn't been relieving her frustrations lately.

* * *

U.S.S. Archer, _Sickbay, Deck 8_

As with most days in Sickbay, it had been a slow one for Doctor Pembridge. Unable to sleep properly yet again she had called into sickbay to at least make some practical use of her time. Even that had failed as she hadn't managed to keep her concentration on any of the tasks that she had been working on through the day. Currently she was losing a game of chess to her offices' desktop computer console. There was only one patient in Sickbay; Ensign Zuvex, a Bolian Conn Officer, had contracted quite a persistent case of Klingon Flu.

So the door to Sickbay sliding open had surprised Pembridge. She stood from her desk and quickly exited her office to see who had entered, half expecting it to be someone looking for some sleeping medication. So she was doubly surprised when Chief Melzora staggered in looking extremely worse for wear. She had bruises over her face and the workout gear she was wearing had been torn in several places. Pembridge could also see that she was bleeding in several places. The Andorian was clutching her ribs and had a pronounced limp on her left leg. The Doctor rushed over to her newest patient.

"What the hell happened to you?" Pembridge demanded as she approached the Chief of Security.

"I got into some bother in a Holosuite exercise program." She responded quickly.

"Well, let's get you to a bed." Pembridge said, helping her towards one of the many unoccupied beds in Sickbay. As Melzora struggled to climb up into a sitting position on the edge of bio-bed four Pembridge moved across to a cabinet and produced a medical tricorder. She made her way back across to her patient, who seemed to be holding back a great deal of pain, and removed the hand scanner from the tricorder as she opened and activated it. As she ran the scanner over Melzora she couldn't believe what she was seeing.

"Some bother?" Pembridge quoted, disbelievingly.

"Okay, a lot of bother." Melzora said, correcting her earlier statement.

"You have a concussion, three cracked ribs, a sprained ankle, a hairline fracture on your left shin, several deep lacerations and a broken nose and a dislocated shoulder." Pembridge diagnosed, folding the tricorder back up and replacing the hand scanner. "I hope this teaches you to engage the safety protocols from now on."

"Where would be the fun in that?" Melzora replied, laughed and then winced in pain almost immediately. Pembridge turned to gather the medical supplies she needed to treat Melzora when the door slid open again. She turned to see who was coming through this time when she saw a security officer she recognized as Lieutenant Kor'vec enter sickbay. He looked in just as bad shape as the security chief herself. Just from looking at him Pembridge could see he had done some serious damage to his elbow and also had a broken nose.

"What's going on aboard this ship!" She exclaimed to no-one in particular. "And what happened to you?"

"I tripped." Kor'vec replied. Pembridge waited for him to elaborate, but after waiting for a few seconds without any extra information, decided to let it go for now. _'This place is turning into a madhouse.'_ She thought to herself as she guided the Klingon to a free bed.

* * *

Author's Notes:

I've played around with the formatting a bit again. This should be the last time, as I quite like the look of this.

Nenifer121: I _love_ cliffhangers.

* * *


	6. Mayday

_Chapter Six: Mayday_

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_Haldeman Research Station, Command Deck_

Lieutenant Velora watched the viewscreen with growing terror but, like everyone else on the Command Deck, she couldn't look away. Although his face betrayed no emotion she could even see that Sovak couldn't bring himself to look away from the unfolding horror. Everyone had stopped what they were doing and most couldn't believe what they were seeing; Velora least of all. The Borg nanoprobes that they had been experimenting with had been dormant, inactive. There were six different security measures placed on just the containment chamber that they were kept in. There was just no way that Velora could think of that the nanoprobes could reactivate themselves, let alone escape the containment chamber. They couldn't even move of their own accord anyway. But there was no time for "impossible" and "out of the question" now, because it had happened. And Sanchez's security men were paying the price.

As soon as the laboratory was open Sovak switched the viewscreen to one of the camera's that covered the hall outside. The security team leader had stepped up to the first drone as soon as the doors had opened. Velora suspected that the man had probably thought that this was just another quarantine drill. He hadn't even had a chance to draw his weapon before the drone had assimilated him. Behind the lead drone the other four former Starfleet scientists had poured out of the open doorway. A second security officer, a Human woman with auburn hair that Velora recognized as Ensign Decker, had stepped forward to help the security team leader. She had been grabbed and assimilated before she even made it halfway to him.

The other two, a Bolian man and an Andorian woman, had been on the opposite side of the door. As soon as they had seen the first drone both had their weapons drawn. A second drone that had emerged from the isolation lab grabbed the Bolian's hand and wrenched the phaser from it. The Andorian didn't hesitate and opened fire on the drone. The drone didn't even flinch as the trademark Borg adaptive shielding flared and rendered the shot harmless. The Bolian was assimilated and then dropped to the deck as the nanoprobes began to take effect on his nervous system.

A third Borg drone bore down on the Andorian, who threw his obviously useless phaser to the ground and drew a _Mraka_ that he had been wearing on his back. A small amount of hope formed in the back of Velora's mind; maybe, just maybe, the Andorian security guard could take down the Borg. It was well known that the Borg's shields were only adaptive to energy weapons, not physical ones. That was why the TR-series weapons had become a standard issue during the Borg War, because they were based on firing chemically propelled bullets rather than energy blasts. That was when the Borg did something that Velora hadn't seen. The assimilated security team leader, now under the control of the Borg's collective mind, drew his phaser and fired on the Andorian. Before he had even had a chance to engage any of the drones in combat the Andorian fell to the ground, stunned by the phaser blast. Velora turned her gaze away before the inevitable happened and the drones converged on the now prone security guard, assimilating him.

An extremely uncomfortable silence descended on the room. A silence that was broken by Doctor Bannister after a few moments. When she spoke it was in a hushed, pained tone. "Sovak; cut all power to the lab and corridor. The only thing I want to be online are the forcefields. Sanchez seal off that corridor. Bring the bulkhead doors down, lock out the Jefferies tubes and erect forcefields at their doors. Those drones are not to leave that area."

"Aye." Sanchez replied. "Permission to join the security teams, ma'am."

"Denied." Bannister responded immediately and then, when she saw the look of frustration flash across the security chief's face, explained her reply. "I need you here coordinating our security teams Lieutenant."

"Understood." Sanchez replied, grudgingly accepting his orders.

"Make passing out TR-116 rifles to your security officers a top priority." It was then that she turned to Velora. The young Centauran wasn't sure what she could possibly do in this situation, despite being an expert on the Borg, she was still just a researcher and these Borg had so far proven themselves to be quite different than the Borg that the Federation had fought during the war.

"Lieutenant, I want you to lock out the main computer." She ordered. "Then I need you to analyse all your readings of these Borg. We need to find out how they could have adapted to phaser fire instantaneously, and we need to find a way to differentiate their lifesigns from ours."

Velora simply nodded and went to work.

* * *

_Haldeman Research Station, Isolation Labs_

Ensign Cassandra Mellor was on edge and was beginning to think that this might not be a drill after all. After Armstrong's team had gone into the corridor outside the isolation lab that was the source of the quarantine breach the bulkhead door had slammed shut behind him and a forcefield had been erected. Only a few minutes ago she had heard the sound of phaser fire; two shots. Not only was she on edge but she could tell the rest of her security team was on edge too. It was then that her comm badge beeped.

"Mellor here." She replied, tapping the badge that was attached to her wrist. She didn't wear the badge on her chest like most others because the adhesive kept seeping through her top and gave her a rash that was quite embarrassing to have on one of your breasts.

"_Mellor, this is Sanchez_." Came the disembodied voice of the station's security chief. "_I'm going to brief you on the situation. The first thing I want to make clear is that this is not a drill. Are we clear?"_

With that pronouncement all eyes fell to Mellor. For her part she simply remained all business, although the butterflies in her stomach started flapping their wings. There was something in Sanchez's voice that caused Mellor to become instantly uncomfortable. "We're clear, sir. What's the situation?"

"_The containment breach has released Borg nanoprobes."_ Sanchez explained. _"There are nine Borg drones on the other side of the bulkhead you're standing in front of. We've already put countermeasures in place, they're not getting through that door. A runner should be bringing some TR-116's to you and your team. Do you understand the situation?"_

Mellor didn't reply immediately, letting the full gravity of the situation hit her. She had never seen a Borg drone before, having graduated from the Academy a year ago she had missed the war. But from what she had read of them she had never wanted to meet them. She saw differing degrees of fear in her teammates.

"_Do you understand, Ensign?"_ Came the question again. This was enough to shake Mellor out of her thoughts. She begun trying to re-assemble her calm but was finding it difficult.

"Yes sir." She replied, her voice shaky at best.

"_Don't worry Cassandra. There's a bulkhead and a forcefield between them and you."_ Sanchez attempted to reassure her. It had a small affect, but she still felt the fear at the bottom of her stomach. For the first time in her life Mellor wished she was a Vulcan.

"So what do we-" She was cut off midsentence as she heard the familiar sound of the bulkhead door opening. She instinctively jumped back and saw her entire security team do the same. She could see straight down the corridor, despite the lights being off there. At first glance it looked as though nine Starfleet officers were standing in the corridor, but a closer inspection revealed that some of them had traditional Borg implants sprouting from their faces. What was odd was that some of them didn't look any different in the slightest, except for the telltale puncture wounds on their necks.

But Mellor couldn't worry about any of that right now. Standing just on the other side of the forcefield was a Borg drone she recognized as having been Lieutenant Armstrong. He was being flanked by two other Borg drones wearing blue Starfleet uniforms. The Armstrong-drone simply stood for several seconds, observing the security team. It was then that it stepped through the forcefield as if it weren't there. Mellor only had a second to react.

"This is Mellor, they've broken contain-" The rest of her sentence was cut off forever. She screamed as loud as she could as the Armstrong-drone injected her with nanoprobes.

* * *

_Haldeman Research Station, Command Deck_

"_This is Mellor, they've broken contain-"_ Those words, followed by a scream that sent a shiver down Velora's spine, filled the Command Deck. It was quickly followed by the sounds of phaser fire and a lot of shouting. But after several seconds all the noise stopped.

"Mellor respond!" Sanchez shouted desperately. "Cassandra! This is Lieutenant Sanchez to any member of security team five, come in!"

There was no response. Sanchez slammed his palm into his console through sheer frustration. Bannister turned to Sovak and, with a raised voice, demanded answers; "How the hell did they get through that bulkhead!?"

"Unknown." Sovak responded. "Although it appears that they simply opened it."

Bannister bowed her head and sighed. Velora watched her curiously for a moment as she saw several emotions pass across the head researchers face. Anguish, despair and an agonizing frustration. But all of that was replaced by an emotion that Velora feared more than any other; defeat.

"We've lost control." She muttered to no-one in particular, but loud enough so everyone could hear her. She turned to Sovak again. "Is there no way we can send out a distress call?"

"I have been working on that and I think I may have a way." Sovak began. Velora didn't allow herself to feel the hope that she had felt before, and allowed a feeling of defeat to settle across her mind, even as Sovak spoke. "I believe I can re-route enough power to the short range communications to send a short message burst. There are drawbacks, however. Doing so will overload the entire communications grid, we would not be able to use communications at all, which would put us out of contact with everyone on the station. We would also have to aim the signal at a specific point. Without the long range sensors we would have to guess where a starship would be. The odds of us actually guessing correctly are approximately…"

"Let's just say astronomical." Bannister cut the Vulcan off before he could give an exact number of the odds. "So we can send a mayday, but only in one direction?"

"That is what I said." Sovak replied in a matter-of-fact tone. Bannister stood in silent contemplation for a minute, staring down at the deck and leaning against the front of the operations console, her arms outstretched. All eyes were on her.

"Can we still access the sensor logs?" She asked, suddenly, without looking up or moving in any way. After no-one answered her she looked up at Sovak."Well?"

Sovak worked on her question for a moment, before responding; "Affirmative."

"Okay, that's a start." She said and suddenly she was animated again. The look of defeat on her face had been replaced by a look of determination. "Use the sensor logs to find the closest starship to our position. Then use their distance, speed and direction to find out where they_ will _be. We can use that as our target area for the message…unless anyone has a better idea?"

She looked at each person on the Command Deck and each one said nothing. "Make the modifications Sovak."

Sovak nodded. "The closest starship is the _Archer_. From beginning the modifications to their reaching us at their maximum warp will be one hour, three minutes and seventeen seconds. Approximately."

"Okay then," Bannister nodded and looked around the room. "We have to hold out for just over an hour people. And let's hope that the _Archer_ gets our message, otherwise we aren't the only ones that this will end badly for."

* * *


	7. Lively Debate

_Chapter Seven: Lively Debate_

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U.S.S. Archer, _Crew Lounge, Deck 7_

Lieutenant Commander Sierra Nessyn-Cole was staring into her drink while she thought of the question that had been posed to her by the _Archer's_ Chief Engineer; Lieutenant Commander Arex Niresh. Every week the Senior Diplomatic Officer met the Tellarite engineer in the lounge and the two carried on an often heated debate. Cole wanted to keep up her skills for debate as there hadn't been much for her to do aboard the starship since her assignment there almost a year ago. Niresh was happy to accommodate her thanks to his the pure enjoyment his species gained from a debate.

Last week the two had debated same-sex relationships and marriages. That debate had ended with neither speaking to each other for several days and Cole losing her usually unshakable cool and putting her fist through one of the lounge's tables. The debate had become so heated because of the Tellarite's natural opposition to same-sex relationships as a species and the fact that Cole was happily married to a member of the same sex; Nessyn Mellar . She even had a child with her wife who was going to be five in just a few months. She loved her wife and child very much and, unfortunately, had gotten very angry when Niresh had explained his opposition same-sex relationships.

This week the debate topic was the Borg. Cole had brought up the reason that she had accepted the _Archer_ assignment in the first place, even though she was on a fast ascent through the Diplomatic Corps at the time. She had believed that not even the Borg Collective were beyond the reach of reason. Even though her official duties were to help Captain Pressley gain quick and legal movement through any territory, she had hoped that she would have had the chance to at least attempt to negotiate with the Borg. That hope died the day the _Enterprise_ and Starfleet's top scientists had found a way to shut the Borg down once and for all.

"Well?" Niresh said, growing slightly impatient that she was taking so long to answer his initial question. Cole realised that she had become lost in her thoughts. "Do you honestly and truly believe that the Borg could have been reasoned with."

"I do." Cole replied with conviction.

"They were a hive mind with only one goal, to destroy everything in their path." Niresh retorted and took a drink of the think, brown coloured liquid in his glass. Cole shuddered at the sight of it; in their debate a few weeks ago Niresh had convinced her to try it. They had had to cut the debate short while Cole went to throw up.

"Not destroy." Cole replied, before continuing. "They stated time and again that their goal was assimilation. In their mind the Collective was simply attempting to bring the galaxy closer to perfection, which is what they believed they were; close to perfection."

"So you believe that you could have reasoned with them and made them see that they were in fact destroying the lives of billions of innocent people?" Niresh said and snorted a derisive laugh as he took another sip of his drink.

"I never said it would have been easy." Cole replied. "But I have to believe that there was a capacity for reason within them. After all, they weren't just mindless drones like everyone remembers. Each Borg was an individual connected to a hive mind that controlled his or her actions. Inside each drone was an individual, a victim-"

Cole was cut off as soon as she had uttered the word "victim" and she knew instantly that she had struck some kind of nerve. Niresh put his glass down on the table with some force and leaned forward, anger spreading across his Tellarite features.

"Victims!?" He responded with venom. "Victims!"

"Each drone was taken against his or her will and forced to bend to the will of the Collective's hive mind. They had no control over what they were doing. The Borg claimed to be adding biological distinctiveness to their Collective as well as technological advancements. So somewhere inside the Collective there had to have been a capacity for reason." She replied, slowly and cautiously. The last thing Cole wanted was a repeat of last week's incident from Niresh's end. He took a long pause as he considered his next reply and Cole respectfully gave him time to compose himself. He leaned back in his chair and the young Human diplomat could see a change in his eyes. Where there had been a burning rage now there was a haunted look.

"During the Battle of Tellar I was serving on the _Enterprise_." He began. His tone was low and his speech pattern was slow, measured. "We were too far away from the planet to take part in the initial defence, so Captain Picard contacted any ships that were nearby and set-up a rendezvous point. The idea was that we would be the reinforcements for the defending ships. Problem was; the defence force didn't last that long. They were smashed to pieces by the Borg Fleet before we could reach them."

Niresh paused. It was a long pause and his features had taken on a grimness that Cole had never seen in him. She knew that he was going to continue and she simply sat and waited from him to keep speaking.

"When we arrived we instantly moved into a debris field." Niresh continued. "I was on the bridge, manning the Engineer's post while Commander LaForge coordinated everything in Engineering, so I saw everything. The fleet had been destroyed, forty starships reduced to smoldering wreckage…and Tellar was on fire. The Borg hadn't gone there to assimilate my people, they had gone there to wipe them from existence. My mother, my sisters, my friends…everyone was dead. My village was one of the first to be targeted you see, who knows why. Everything from my childhood was destroyed and my family was wiped out. Billions of my people lost their lives that day at the hands of the Borg. So you'll forgive me if I don't see them as victims, Sierra."

Cole felt herself welling up as her friend and debating partner finished his story. Academically she knew that he must have experienced some loss after the battle over his homeworld. But she never imagined that loss could have been so great. Personally she had absolutely no idea what she would do or how she would feel if she learned that her entire family; her wife, child, mother, father, brother and grandparents, had all been wiped out in an attack of some kind. She didn't want to ever know how that felt. She wanted to reach out to reassure her friend, comfort him. But the Battle of Tellar had been almost three years ago. Whatever she said or did he had almost certainly heard it before. She considered her next words carefully.

"I think perhaps we should call this debate off for the time being." She said, after the longest and most uncomfortable silence of her entire life. Niresh nodded, not looking at her. Instead he had now swiveled his chair slightly so he was looking out of the window, watching the stars streak by at warp speed. They sat in silence for another minute.

"There was one thing I wanted to ask you, Sierra." He said, without looking away from the window. "If you only joined the ship to reason with the Borg, why are you still here?"

For that question, Sierra Nessyn-Cole had no answer.

* * *

U.S.S. Archer, _Stellar Cartography Lab, Deck 13_

Commander Carolina Ambrose, Chief Science Officer and Second-in-Command of the _Archer_, was getting sick of being called to various labs to break up the petty squabbling and arguing that her science staff seemed to be turning into an art form. She had been sitting in her office going over a new research paper with her assistant, Lieutenant Commander Sora Merrick, when she had gotten wind that a debate between two of her Stellar Cartographists were about to come to blows. So with Merrick in tow, Ambrose had dragged herself out of her office and down to the Stellar Cartography lab to calm the situation down before Chief Melzora had to become involved.

When the two women had arrived in Stellar Cartography they had been greeted by the usual sight. Lieutenant Rebecca Li the Chief of Stellar Cartography and one of her subordinates, Ensign Julie Kirsten, were squaring off with each other. They both looked infuriated and they were both shouting about something.

"Ladies!" Ambrose shouted at the top of her voice as she entered the lab. Both women recognised the voice as soon as they heard it, causing them to stop their arguing and turn to face their superior officer. Li looked quite defiant, while Kirsten looked sheepish at the sight of her.

"What's this all about then?" Ambrose asked, then raised her hand up as both women were about to start explaining the situation to her. "On second thought, I don't care. Ensign you're dismissed."

Without argument Kirsten walked past Ambrose, her head bowed and her eyes firmly looking at her feet. Once she had walked out the door and let it slide closed behind her, Ambrose turned her attention to Lieutenant Li. She shot her an icy stare.

"One day, Lieutenant!" She shouted. "One day I'd like to go without having to break up an argument amongst the science staff. I know that scientists are meant to debate with each other. But there's debating and then there's screaming at each other so loudly a passing crewman calls me because he thinks that two of my scientists are about to tear each other to pieces."

She paused. Li, for her part, decided not to say a word. She merely stared at Ambrose with a passive expression on her face. The defiance and anger were still present, she could tell that just by looking into the smaller woman's eyes.

"This has to end," She continued. "This department can't function like this anymore. Every time I hear about an incident like this I'm going to call Chief Melzora and I'm going to have her send Lieutenant Kor'vec down here to deal with it. If you keep arguing like this and Kor'vec has to keep coming down here, well let's just say that Klingon's aren't renowned for their patience. Am I clear Lieutenant Li?"

"Yes." She replied, quietly.

"I'm sorry?" Ambrose demanded, going for the 'hard-ass' angle.

"Yes sir." Li spoke up, giving the correct response this time.

"Good." The senior scientist turned to leave Li to stew in her lab. She didn't know where Kirsten might have gotten to, but she decided that she was going to give the young Ensign the same dressing down later. As she exited the Stellar Cartography lab with Lieutenant Merrick, and made sure the doors were closed, she dropped the enraged act. She let out a long, deep sigh and noticed that her assistant was grinning.

"You don't think I was too hard on her, do you Sora?" She asked.

"No. I think you were the perfect amount of hard on her." Merrick replied, her grin getting even wider. As Ambrose started walking back to a turbolift Merrick spoke again. "Uh, you wouldn't actually set Kor'vec on them…right Commander?"

It was Ambrose's turn to grin. "It depends what kind of day I'm having at the time."

* * *

U.S.S. Archer, _Main Bridge, Deck 1_

Captain Pressley had decided to take some of the Bravo shift watch for some relaxation. His watch commander, Lieutenant Commander Solen, was sitting dutifully in the XO's position to his right. Watching the stars streak past while he sat in the centre seat was something that Pressley found oddly relaxing. This was especially comforting to him knowing that the _Archer_ was on a slow road to nowhere. When he heard the turbolift doors open he span his chair around to see who had entered. It was Commander Nasar, who made a path straight for the captain. He seemed rather tense about something and Pressley wondered what could get his first officer in that kind of a state.

"Can I have a word with you in private?" Nasar asked. Pressley noticed that his hands were shaking and his palms were quite sweaty. He raised an eyebrow.

"Sure Harvey." He stood as he replied and was about to make his way to the ready room when Lieutenant Roveck, the _Archer's_ Vulcan Chief of Operations, spoke up.

"Captain," He said. "We are receiving a distress call."

This made Pressley and Nasar both stop in their tracks. It was Pressley who spoke up; "A distress call?"

"Yes sir," Roveck replied. "It has originated from the Haldeman Research station. It is a focused distress call, it seems to have been aimed at the _Archer_, and the _Archer_ only."

"How odd." Pressley replied, exchanging an inquisitive glance with Nasar. "What does it say."

"Just one word: mayday." Roveck replied. Pressley considered the situation for a moment. If the distress call was aimed specifically at the _Archer_ then that could mean someone wanted their attention. Except the captain didn't know anyone aboard the Haldeman station, or any reason why they would try to contact the _Archer_ specifically. This alone made Pressley think it was worth checking out.

"Let's check it out then. Helm change course. Tactical take us to yellow alert. Lieutenant Roveck inform Starbase ninety-one that we're going to be running a little behind schedule." He issued his orders with practiced efficiency and turned to Nasar. "Was it something important you wanted to talk to me about?"

"It can wait." He replied. The two men moved over to their respective positions and settled into their seats, both curious to know just what "mayday" actually meant.

* * *

Author's Note:

I am posting two chapters today because I won't be able to post anymore until Friday night at the earliest. Happy reading!

* * *


	8. Seige Mentality

_Chapter Eight: Siege Mentality

* * *

_

_Haldeman Research Station, Backup __Armoury_

Senior Chief Petty Officer Groves struggled to hold his nerve as the men and women that were under his command struggled to hold the line. The station was at red alert and the Master-at-Arms had received reinforcements and orders; the Borg were using weapons and the armoury must be defended at all costs. That had failed but not before Lieutenant Sanchez had beamed all the weapons to the backup armoury. But the Borg had, as usual, adapted and now they were coming for the weapons. Groves was with six other security officers, most of whom weren't actually part of his team but had taken refuge from the onslaught after watching their comrades fall under the relentless wave of Borg drones.

Groves steadied himself as he and the security officers he was with tried to hold the corridor. He ducked back through the door to the armoury as a phaser blast skimmed past him. As he reloaded the TR-116 he was using he saw one of the guards, an Ensign, take a direct hit from a phaser blast that seemed to come from behind him. Groves slammed a fresh ammunition clip into place and stuck his head out of the door, looking the opposite way down the corridor. Sure enough there were more drones coming from the now forced open door on the opposite side of the corridor. _'How many have they already assimilated?' _Groves wondered to himself as he realised that the security team was surrounded. The new drones opened fire on the unaware security team and two more officers fell under stunning phaser beams.

"Borg on our six!" Groves shouted as a warning. But it was hopeless; he knew that they would be overrun in a matter of seconds. He fired off a burst into the advancing Borg, felling a single drone, and then ducked back into the armoury again. He had his orders; defend the weapons at any cost. Groves also knew that he didn't want to become a part of that Borg Collective. He strode to the back of the armoury and began frantically searching through the containers, opening one after another until he found the box he was looking for.

He turned around to see that the remainder of the security team had been neutralised by the Borg drones. The drones themselves were bending down to assimilate the unconscious Starfleet officers, oblivious to Groves' presence. As the old Starfleet NCO stepped forwards one of the drones spotted him and turned to face him. He recognised the drone as Ensign Michelle Sharp, a young girl who used to hang around the armoury trying out the upgrades to the weapons. Now she was Borg; her eyes were glazed over and lifeless and there were implants all over her. She began to advance on Groves, moving in to assimilate him, stating; "You will be assimilated."

"Oh I don't think so Michelle." Groves said, a grim smile playing across his face. He held up the piece of equipment that he had recovered from one of the transport crates. It was a detonator that was linked to the box full of photon explosives that were behind him. His last thought was of his wife; Anna, on the beach that was a short walk away from their home in Blyth back on Earth.

* * *

_Haldeman Research Station, Engineering Section_

"They keep overriding the lockouts faster than we can put them up!" Shouted Ensign Charlie Watt, a young computer programmer who was just nineteen days out of Starfleet Academy. The Chief Engineer for the research station, Lieutenant Commander Thraxin, rushed to stand behind Watt. Not far from them at the main entrance to the Engineering section was the sound of a pitched battle as security officers desperately tried to hold off the advancing Borg.

"We can't let them gain control of the main computer Ensign!" Thraxin shouted, stating the obvious. They both turned to the entranceway, their attention caught by a shout of pain. Another security guard had been felled by a phaser blast. Watt wasn't sure if Thraxin's next statement was actually intended for him or not; "I don't think we have a lot of time."

The Bolian took his TR-16, which was the pistol version of the assault rifle, and checked that it was loaded before looking down at the young Human. "No matter what happens, lockout that computer, understood?"

Watt gulped and could only nod as Thraxin ran down to the frontlines to help the remaining security with the defence of the Engineering section. As the sounds of the battle raged on all around him he tried to focus his efforts on keeping the Borg from gaining complete control of the Haldeman Research Station. There was only one way that Watt could think of at this point; a completely random alpha-numeric lockout code. The Borg would be able to break it eventually but it would buy them a lot of time first.

He got to work, blocking out the sounds of phaser and rifle fire, screaming, running, panic, explosions...everything that went alongside war. He blocked everything out of his mind except his task and the computer terminal that he was using in front of him. The computer was currently randomly generating a two-hundred digit alpha-numeric pass code to lockout the main computer. Watt was busy putting as much security protection as possible when his concentration was broken by a scream of agony from Thraxin.

He looked up and saw that a Borg drone wearing a Starfleet uniform had buried assimilation tubules into Thraxin's neck and then drop the Bolian to the floor. Watt saw that the entire security force was down and anyone that remained in Engineering was trying to make an escape any way possible, most being shot down by the Borg as they attempted it. The drone who had just assimilated Thraxin turned to look at Watt and aimed a phaser straight at him. At that moment the young Ensign heard the beep from his console that told him the encryption code was ready to be deployed.

In the seconds between him activating the main computer lockout and being stunned by the Borg, presumably to be assimilated into the Collective, he decided that life was not fair at all. His career in Starfleet had lasted just nineteen days. '_So much for seeing the galaxy.'_ Was his last thought as an individual.

* * *

_Haldeman Research Station, Command Deck_

"Explosion in the Armoury!" Shouted Lieutenant Sanchez from his security station.

"We have lost contact with the Engineering Section, Doctor." Reported Sovak, his voice was completely calm.

"Uh...I've just been locked out of the main computer." Lieutenant Velora stammered, fear was beginning to grip a hold of her.

For Doctor Bannister it was all coming at her too fast. Updates and reports on how far and fast the Borg were spreading were coming at her every few seconds. They had already taken roughly one-third of the station under their control. Bannister didn't even want to think of how many people had lost their souls to the great machine that was the Borg Collective.

"I've lost contact with security team Bravo-Three." Sanchez reported as the reports continued to flood in from all around her.

"I am receiving reports that Shuttlebay Nine is under assault." Sovak reported. Bannister seized on this report.

"Make sure that those shuttle doors remain sealed shut!" Bannister shouted at her second-in-command. "The last thing we need is the Borg escaping in a runabout and assimilated a ship, or a world. Speaking of which secure the-"

Bannister stopped when she heard a familiar noise; the whine of a transporter. She didn't want to believe it and secretly hoped that the _Archer_ had arrived and, having assessed the situation, was sending over reinforcements. But the mayday had only been sent twenty-minutes ago. So when Bannister saw four Borg drones masquerading as Starfleet personnel appear in the centre of the Command Deck not five feet from her, she wasn't surprised. In fact, she didn't feel anything at all except a cold numbness, as the nearest one to her plunged assimilation tubules into her neck.

It had happened so fast that no-one on the Command Deck had been able to react before it had been too late. Velora felt a surge in her stomach and she managed to stop herself just short of vomiting. She heard the transporter whine but had ignored it as she had tried to hack her way back into the main computer. It was the short, sharp scream that she recognised had come from Doctor Bannister that caught the Centauran's attention. And then she froze in fear, unable to move as she watched the situation unfold before her.

Sanchez leapt over his station and charged the Borg. The personnel on the Command Deck didn't have their TR-series weapons yet, so there wasn't much they could do. Sanchez swung a punch for the drone that had assimilated the doctor. His fist was caught in mid-air and, as the drone held it, a second one assimilated him from behind.

The ensign and junior-grade lieutenant fired their hand phasers once each at the drones. Their shots impacted harmlessly on the drones personal shielding. To their credit they stood their ground as two of the drones bore down on them. They attempted to engage them in personal combat but the drones were faster and stronger than the Starfleet officers and they were beaten and assimilated with ease.

And then it was Velora's turn. She saw that the drone who had assimilated Sanchez was now making its way towards her. She stood and wondered what she could, how she could survive this. She had roughly three seconds before the drone would be next to her. She couldn't fight it, she didn't have any personal combat training and she had no sidearm. The drone was between her and the main turbolift, and she knew that if she tried to get past it, the drone would assimilate her. That was when she realised that the Jefferies tube entrance was only a few feet away.

As quickly as she could, Velora turned and sprinted towards the entrance to the Jefferies tubes. She bent down and keyed open the door using the panel to the side. Just as she was about to climb in she felt an arm grab her from behind. It wrapped around her chest and hoisted her back up to her feet, pushing her head to one side and exposing her neck. Velora let out an anguished cry and waited for the bite of assimilation tubules, the end of her individuality. It didn't come, however, and the Borg drone merely went limp behind her and let her go. She turned to see that Sovak had managed to snap its neck.

"We must go." He said, motioning towards the Jeffries tubes. Total panic had gripped Velora now and she needed no invitation to escape the hell that was the Command Deck. She threw herself into the tunnels of the Jefferies tubes and crawled as fast as she could away from the Borg. So caught up in her fear was Velora that she hadn't noticed that Sovak wasn't behind her.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Nenifer121: Looks like the _Archer_ is going to fulfil its original mission, yes.

Tommy-JM: Sorry for the lack of updates. Weekends are pretty much the only time I'm able to get on the Internet. These Borg are going to be quite different from the Borg of the series', something that I'll explore throughout the whole story. As for the characters; well I've just narrowed the list by a few. There are a few main characters but as the story goes on hopefully you'll get to know them and it'll be easier to keep track of who's who.

* * *


	9. The Station

_Chapter Nine: The Station_

_

* * *

_

U.S.S. Archer, _Marine CO's Office, Deck 6_

Colonel Lin Alkazara sat behind her desk watching the yellow klaxon flash silently as her second-in-command, Major Quovec, gave her a status report. Alkazara already knew exactly what was in the report that the Klingon marine officer was reading to her, and it was only protocol that kept them having these daily meetings. The marine unit that was stationed aboard the _Archer_ hadn't been in any kind of engagement since the launch of the modified _Akira-class_ starship. The thirty-plus strong marine compliment had been running drills in attempts to keep them as close as possible to combat ready. As both Alkazara and Quovec had noted though, after a year of virtual inactivity it would be impossible to know whether their unit was ready for deployment. There would only be one way to know how ready their unit was, and that was to see them in combat firsthand. Something that Alkazara hoped was possible with this yellow alert. She noticed that Quovec was approaching the end of his report and snapped her attention back to the Klingon.

"…we still have not received our compliment of phasers and phaser rifles, so our teams will still be equipped with TR-series rifles." Quovec finished, putting the PADD he was holding down onto the desk in front of Alkazara.

"Are our teams still performing to an acceptable standard with the weapons?" She asked.

"Yes." Quovec replied. The sound of boots stomping past the office caused a temporary pause to the meeting. Both of them turned to look out at the passers-by via the two long, narrow windows that were one either side of the doors. Captain Elizabeth Parell, commanding officer of Bravo Squad, was leading her ten-strong marine team on a jog through the corridors of the marine deck. Alkazara watched as each member of the team jogged past her office. It was a regular sight nowadays; while Alpha Squad kept their training exclusively to the Holosuites, Parell liked to lead her troops around the decks a few times every morning for a light jog.

"Is there anything else Colonel?" Her Klingon colleague asked her.

"That will be all thank you, Major." Alkazara nodded and Quovec stood and left promptly. Alkazara stared out at the corridor long after Quovec had left, wondering if perhaps it was time to leave the _Archer_. The middle-aged Simbrecan had been pondering this question for several months and each time kept coming back to the same conclusion; she had nowhere to go. Alkazara was a warrior, and a warrior needed an enemy. The Federation had defeated the Dominion and the Borg, the Romulans were making peace and the Klingon's were close allies. There was no-one for the Federation to fight. So even though the _Archer_ was running errands for the United Federation of Planets, Alkazara always concluded that she would be no better off anywhere else.

She considered going back to Simbreca Prime and take an extended leave of absence. Her mother was living her final year and Alkazara felt that she should spend it with one of her daughters. Her two sisters, Shiell and Pavlov, were both also in Starfleet. Shiell was aboard the _Rutledge_ which was currently seven months from Federation space on a deep space exploration mission. Her other sister Pavlov was working with the Daystrom Institute as a consultant. She and a small team of scientists were attempting to extend the lifespan of the Simbrecan people. The last time Alkazara had talked to Pavlov she was told by her sister that the research she was doing was at a critical junction and couldn't be interrupted. So Alkazara was currently considering taking a leave of absence from Starfleet and spending some time with her mother.

"_All hands to duty stations._" Came the announcement over the intercom by Commander Nasar that broke Alkazara's concentration. She pushed all of her doubts and musings aside as she made her way to the bridge.

* * *

U.S.S. Archer, _Main Bridge, Deck 1_

Captain Pressley glanced backwards as Chief Melzora exited the main turbolift and took her position at the Tactical Station. The Andorian security chief completed the bridge staff, and just in time as Lieutenant Pel Rovin, the _Archer's_ Centauran Chief Flight Control Officer, made the announcement from Helm; "We've reached the station, dropping to impulse."

As the _Archer_ exited warp and entered the slow crawl of impulse power Pressley took in everything that he could see on the main viewscreen, making sure not to miss a single detail. It didn't prove challenging as there wasn't anything out of the ordinary, at least not on the outside of the Haldeman Research Station. He and Commander Nasar exchanged a quick quizzical glance, neither man knowing what to make of the situation. Pressley turned to Lieutenant Roveck at Ops.

"Lieutenant Roveck, scan the station." He ordered.

"I have been endeavouring too, Captain." Roveck responded, not turning away from his station. "There appears to be some kind of jamming field in operation around the station. It is interfering with scans and communications."

"Well, that answers my next question." Pressley responded, to no-one in particular. Inwardly the starship captain was quite happy to have a problem to solve, rather than ferrying supplies between worlds. However the distress call had been one word; 'mayday'. He quashed these feelings until he could know for sure whether this was a more sinister problem than it appeared. He turned to his XO and knew he didn't have to say a word; he was silently asking his old friend for input.

"If we can't scan the station then we can't beam in." Nasar said thoughtfully. "We wouldn't be able to target the beam-in. Even if we used existing schematics for the station, we could beam half the away team into some of the station's crew members."

"That could get quite messy." Commander Ambrose, Pressley's Chief of Sciences and second officer, replied from the science station without humour.

"Can you break through the jamming field, Lieutenant?" Pressley asked, turning his attention back to the Vulcan Operations Officer.

"Possibly, but it would take several hours." Roveck replied. If he didn't know any better, Pressley could have sworn he heard a slight tone of frustration in the Vulcan's voice. He ignored that, not even sure if it existed, and turned back to his XO.

"Shuttlecraft?" He asked him; though it was a rhetorical question. Pressley already knew that the only way to gather information was by sending an away team via shuttlecraft to the station. He was also certain that Nasar knew this. The Commander nodded and Pressley stood, turning to Melzora.

"Chief Melzora, Lieutenant Roveck head down to the flight deck. Chief, have a small security team meet us there. Harvey," He turned to his XO and saw the protest that he was building up to, but continued issuing his orders anyway. "Have Laura send a couple of her Physician's with us, in case anyone is injured."

"Captain," Nasar began, this time it was his turn to speak over Pressley. "If you're planning on leading this away mission yourself, I strongly recommend against it."

After a moment's pause, the captain replied; "Explain."

"We don't even know what's going on over there. I think it would be best to let someone else lead the team and determine the situation." Nasar explained, and Pressley knew that his first officer was right. He was still smarting. Ever since he had taken command of the _Archer_ and gotten Nasar assigned as his Executive Officer the two had formed an unspoken agreement; the Captain would lead the away teams and the first officer would stay behind and look after the ship. Usually this would suit both men, however in this instance Nasar was probably right. Pressley hadn't wanted to admit it, even to himself, but ever since they had received the "mayday" he had been feeling uneasy. It was a gut instinct but he had learned the hard way that a good captain should never ignore his instincts. He nodded in acceptance to Nasar and turned not to his XO but to his second officer.

"Commander Ambrose, the away team is yours." He said. The Chief Science Officer looked both surprised and taken aback as the words sunk in. Much to her credit however, she quickly dismissed those feelings and her face became neutral again.

"Aye sir." She responded, making her way to the turbolift that Roveck and Melzora were already standing in. As she stepped in and the doors slid shut, Captain Pressley sat down in his chair and inwardly sighed. He tried shaking the feeling of foreboding he had as he looked out at the Haldeman Research Station, but found that he couldn't.

* * *

Shuttlecraft Robert E. Lee, _Outside _U.S.S. Archer

Carolina Ambrose had never led a non-scientific away team before and found herself quite excited despite the circumstances. She was sitting in the mission commander's seat aboard the Class-III runabout. Next to her was the shuttle pilot that had been on rotation on the Flight Deck, Ensign Soren, a Centauran. In the front cabin with Ambrose was Roveck and the two general physician's that Dr. Pembridge had sent along; Lieutenant M'Liss (a Caitian) and Ensign Vicenzo. Sitting in the rear compartment was the four-strong security team led by Melzora. Ensign Simmons, a Human, and Petty Officer Pelzar, a Bajoran, were sitting on one side. On the other side stood the massive, hulking presence of Lieutenant Lesh Cragg, a Brikar. He stood because he has built like a mountain and couldn't sit down on the chairs, even though he was too tall to stand up straight. He was quite an intimidating presence and Ambrose was glad to have him on the team.

"One minute from destination. We're receiving a signal from the _Archer_." Soren reported. Ambrose noted that she operated the shuttle controls with ease. She didn't even need to tell the Centauran pilot to put the transmission on speakers.

"_Commander Ambrose, this is Pressley._" Came the familiar voice of the ship's Captain over the runabouts intercom. "_When you enter the Shuttlebay you'll drop out of contact with the ship. You have thirty minutes to assess the situation. Then send the _Robert E. Lee_ back out and report back to us._"

"Understood." Ambrose started to focus on her breathing, trying not to let her excitement and anxiety get the better of her.

"_The chances are the Shuttlebay doors are going to be sealed._" Another voice was speaking now, it was Lieutenant (junior grade) Eloth, the Andorian Assistant Operations Officer. Ambrose determined that he must have arrived on the Bridge to replace Roveck. "_If you use your phasers at minimal power you should be able to cut through the doors. The inner forcefield should still hold. It'll just be a case of adapting your shield frequency to match the forcefield frequency._"

"_We have Bravo Squad on standby, Commander._" This time it was Colonel Alkazara who spoke. Ambrose wondered if it was always like this when leading an away team; a huge amount of information was being thrown at her at once. "_If the situation is desperate, bring your runabout back outside and signal for reinforcements. Captain Parell can be in the Shuttlebay within three minutes._"

Ambrose thought she could detect an edge to the marine's voice, and quickly realised why. This was the first potentially dangerous situation the _Archer_ was facing, and it wasn't being handled by the marines.

"Twenty-seconds out." Soren stated.

"_Good luck Commander._" It was Pressley who spoke, his voice starting to become fuzzy from the static that was invading the comms.

"Hopefully I won't need it, sir." She replied as the communications went dead thanks to the _Robert E. Lee_ passing through the jamming field.

* * *

_Author's Note:_

I will include some kind of Bridge Layout and Manifest at a later date. Below is a quick summary of the Simbrecan race, of whom Colonel Alkazara is a member:

_Simbrecan's: _They are a humanoid species from Simbreca Prime. They are made up entirely of females. When they wish to conceive a child they have a simple procedure that releases a special chemical compound from one of the glands into the reproductive system. When they are born young Simbrecan's develop into fully grown adults in six years. Due to this they are extremely quick learners. Every member of the species, unless killed by unnatural causes, lives to be fifty years. They die on their fifty-first birthday. Their fiftieth year is called 'the final year' amongst their people. The reason they live such short lives is because, as their vital organs begin shutting down, they are able to not age the way Human's do. One day they simply die from complete organ failure. They do not show outward signs of ageing. They are given a first name by their mother and, once they reach maturity, can select a surname for themselves.

As a result of their upbringing and culture Simbrecan's rarely pursue romantic relationships, most find them puzzling. However as more and more of their people leave their homeworld and become immersed in alien cultures they have found them possible. Again their views on romance are different than most other cultures. To them it is almost exclusively about love and togetherness. They possess the means to have sex, but rarely engage in the practice.

* * *


	10. Final Approach

_Chapter Ten: Final Approach_

* * *

_Outside Haldeman Research Station_

Chief Melzora moved up to the cockpit of the _Robert E. Lee_ just in time to see the runabout's phasers lash out and cut a large chunk out of the Haldeman Station's shuttlebay doors. She had moved up mostly because she wanted to know the second that the security team was needed to move out. But there was a small part of her that had an inkling that something was terribly wrong. The Andorian had already concocted a likely scenario in her head and, although she wasn't discounting anything, she was accepting this theory as the most likely. She believed that someone had taken control of the station. She didn't know and didn't want to guess at the identity of the assailants. It was the only theory that could easily explain why there was a jamming field active around the station, preventing anyone from using sensors, communications and, effectively, transporters.

Luckily Melzora and her handpicked security team were ready for anything. Each member of the away team was armed with a TR-16 pistol and the security officers were armed with the TR-116 rifle variants. Except Lieutenant Cragg; the massive Brikar who couldn't hold a normal Starfleet weapon if he tried. The weapon he used was a modified version of the TR-1000; usually a mounted gun emplacement but, in this case, a weapon the man could lift comfortably with one hand. The reason the entire away team was armed with "slug" weaponry rather than the standard phaser weaponry was due to logistics. Starfleet hadn't issued the _Archer_ with their compliment of phasers and rifles, so the ship was stuck with the TR-series weapons they were launched with.

Melzora was also carrying her _Mraka_ in a holster that hung from her belt. It was the same one she had been sparring with just a day earlier with Lieutenant Kor'vec. She smiled to herself slightly as she remembered that particular encounter, and the similar encounter that had taken place after they had both been released from Sickbay. She hadn't anticipated taking a mate, especially not one from her security detail, but life moved in mysterious ways. Her train of thought was interrupted as the phasers of the _Robert E. Lee_ cut another portion of the shuttlebay doors away and created an opening large enough for the runabout to enter through. It wouldn't be long now, Melzora knew.

"Scanning the interior forcefield." Roveck announced from his position at the runabouts Operations console. Melzora turned her attention to Commander Ambrose.

"What's the plan once we get inside?" She asked her superior officer. Ambrose turned in her chair as she was addressed and looked thoughtful as she considered the question.

"We should split up," The Commander began. "One team should head down to the Engineering deck and try and figure out a way to disable the dampening field. Another team should head up to the Command deck and try and get a grip on the situation. I'll lead the team to the Command deck, Roveck can lead the team to the Engineering deck. We'll take one medic each."

"How shall we split the security team?" Melzora asked.

"I'll leave that to your discretion, Chief. You know them better than I do." Ambrose replied. There was a compliment buried in there somewhere. It seemed like the science officer may have been attempting to make small talk with the security chief, however Melzora was all business at this point.

"Simmons and Isson can accompany Lieutenant Roveck." The Andorian began. "Cragg and I will accompany you to the Command deck."

"Is Cragg the…" Ambrose paused as she searched for the right words, taking a moment to think. "walking landmass?"

Melzora couldn't help but chuckle slightly. "Yes ma'am."

"Well at least I won't have to worry too much if I've got him with me." Ambrose said, quietly so only Melzora could hear. "I think I'd actually feel sorry for the bad guys."

Both women laughed softly. "So, I get the security chief and the walking version of El Capitan. Are you genuinely worried or is that just your warped version of hitting on me?"

"I believe there are too many unknown elements, Commander." Melzora replied, back to being all business. "And if your intention is to personally go to the command deck, I intend to make sure you have the best protection possible."

There was a lot that Ambrose could read into those words. The Andorian security chief saw that she was taking her time processing the implications of what Melzora had just said. But any questions, thoughts or comments that the Human woman was preparing would, to Melzora's relief, have to wait as they were both interrupted by Roveck's announcement; "I have calculated the frequency of the interior forcefield. Shields have been recalibrated."

"Okay then ladies and gentlemen," Soren started as she engaged the thrusters of the _Robert E. Lee_ and began edging the runabout slowly into the shuttlebay. "I'd like to thank you for riding the Soren Expressway, direct to the Haldeman Research Station. My apologies for the delay but we are now pulling into our final stop. When leaving the shuttle if you could remember to take all personal belongings with you and please mind the gap between the shuttle and shuttlebay platform."

As she ended her bizarre monologue the runabout touched down and Melzora activated her TR weapon. She afforded herself a glance out of the front viewport and was satisfied that there was no activity inside the shuttlebay. She moved to the rear compartment of the _Robert E. Lee_ and noticed that her security officers were ready to move out. The rest of the away team had gathered behind her, except for Ambrose, who had taken a position beside her. Melzora looked at the away team commander, who nodded to her. The security chief passed this nod on to Simmons, who was standing next to the hatch release. Having received the go-ahead, Simmons opened the hatch. Every member of the security team, apart from Cragg, leveled their weapons and aimed out of the runabout. After a few moments they were satisfied that there was no threat but didn't lower them.

"Let's go." Ambrose said, and turned to Soren. "Stay with the shuttle, Ensign."

"Aye ma'am." He responded and, as the away team began to exit the runabout, added; "Bring me back something nice from the gift shop."

* * *

_Haldeman Research Station, Shuttlebay 2_

Commander Ambrose exited the _Robert E. Lee_ side-by-side with Chief Melzora. While the Andorian security chief had her rifle raised and pressed against her shoulder, Ambrose had her tricorder out and scanning. She was trying to take in as much data about the surrounding area as possible, constantly making adjustments to the scanners for a wider scanning resolution. Unfortunately whatever was jamming the _Archer's_ sensors was also thwarting her own scans. As more members of her away team began to exit the runabout Ambrose looked around the shuttlebay. She tapped her combadge.

"This is Commander Ambrose of the starship _Archer_ to any member of the station crew, please respond." She said into thin air. She already knew it would be a fruitless endeavor as she couldn't hear herself speaking through her away teams combadges, meaning that her signal wasn't even getting a few feet.

"I'm going to access the station's main computer core." The scientist said, pointing at a small computer console that was built into the bay wall.

"Isson, with the Commander." She heard Melzora order from behind her.

"Aye." Came the reply, followed by footfalls that fell into step behind Ambrose. As she headed to the side of the shuttlebay she could hear the security chief issuing more orders to her security personnel. After she heard Lieutenant Cragg accept his orders and begin moving to wherever Melzora had told him to move, Ambrose was sure she could feel the deck shaking slightly. She shrugged that sensation off as a trick of her mind. She stopped at the computer console.

"Damn it all to-" Ambrose began to curse.

"Problem?" Melzora said from right behind the Commander, causing her to jump slightly. Ambrose hadn't even heard the Andorian walk up behind her. Ambrose deduced that a lifetime as a security officer probably meant that you snuck everywhere you went.

"The computer is locked down." Ambrose explained, getting herself back on track and trying to avoid letting her mind go off on anymore tangents. She pressed a few more commands but all that she kept bringing up was a prompt for a password. "I'll try and bypass."

Luckily for the scientist, she had served as a computer programmer before, aboard the _Lexington_ a year after graduating from the Academy. She accessed her tricorder's wireless capability and connected it to the computer panel. She began a custom made decryption program that she was fairly confident wouldn't break the lockdown. Ambrose hadn't noticed until now that Melzora had made her way over to the main bulk of the away team, probably to explain the situation to them. That left her with just Petty Officer Isson for company.

"Nervous?" She asked the Bajoran. The man was clutching his TR rifle a little too tight and was sweating a little. He looked over at Ambrose and nodded.

"First away mission." He said.

"How long have you been in Starfleet?" Ambrose enquired.

"Two years." He said. "I mostly had starbase work before I was assigned to the _Archer_. I've spent most of my career wandering around hallways."

"Two years, eh?" Ambrose laughed, seeing that her program was fifty-percent complete. "For the first two years of my career I was stationed aboard the _Surak_. I was a Physicist, spent most of my time in the labs. Then one day Lieutenant Commander Mena, who was the head of the science department, decided that I should get some away team experience. My first away mission was to Vorgan seven. I spent most of my time sticking with the group, trying not to do or say anything, when I suddenly spotted a creature out the corner of my eye. Quite small, looked like a turtle. Rather than tell the mission commander I wandered over, tricorder in hand, and started to scan it. It didn't run away, just stood and stared at me. After about twenty seconds I noticed its back had started to bulge, while it looked like a shell it was soft and organic. Before I had a chance to get back or tell anyone what I'd found its "shell" exploded and coated me in some kind of paralysing goop. I had to be beamed back to sickbay and I couldn't move for five days."

They both laughed as the chief scientist finished her story. She was just glad that she could put the man at ease. There was nothing worse than having a nervous security officer with you. Her tricorder beeped and she looked down, not surprised when it told her that the decryption program hadn't worked. She closed the tricorder and deactivated the computer panel, then turned and made her way to the rest of the away team. As she approached Melzora spoke up.

"I've briefed the team on their assignments, Commander." She said.

"Good, because there's been a change of plan." Ambrose responded, without a hint of irony in her voice. "I'm going to get to the computer core and see if I can get around this computer lockdown."

There was a pause for a moment as Melzora took in this new information. "Okay, if our team goes there on the way to the command deck-"

"Negative." Ambrose cut her off, deciding to stamp her authority on the situation. "The command deck is too much of a priority, besides they're in opposite directions. I'll take Isson with me. Melzora; you, Cragg and…Vicenzo head up to the command deck. Hopefully by the time you get there I'll have the main computer up and running. Roveck, Simmons and M'Liss get down to the engineering deck and try and get those jammers offline."

"Yes Commander." Rang out from several of the officers around her, but Ambrose could see that Melzora wanted nothing more than to protest this new plan of action. To the Andorian's credit she held her tongue and merely nodded an affirmative.

"Let's go then." Ambrose said, leading the way towards the doors.

* * *


	11. Best Laid Plans

_Chapter Eleven: Best Laid Plans_

_

* * *

_

_Haldeman Research Station, F-Deck_

Commander Ambrose and Petty Officer Isson were leading the way through the corridors of the research station. Well, to be more accurate, Ambrose was leading the way while Isson kept in step next to her pointing his gun down the corridor. She was using a pre-loaded schematic of the station she had loaded into her tricorder before the mission. While the tricorder was giving her no readings thanks to the jamming field, the map was stored in the scanners databanks and was still perfectly accessible.

The five-strong team had used one of the emergency ladders to climb down one deck and were now looking for another ladder that would take them down further to G-Deck, which was where both the computer core and engineering were. Ambrose could hear a quiet debate going on behind her between Ensign Marell Vicenzo and Ensign Laura Simmons; both of whom were taking up the rear.

"Why call it 'engineering' when you're on a space station?" Asked Simmons.

"What do you mean?"

"There aren't any engines." Simmons said in a matter-of-fact tone. "If there aren't any engines then why call it 'engineering?'"

"It's just the given name for it, based on what it does." Responded Vicenzo, who spoke almost like he was speaking to small child. "Like how you'd call the commander of a ship 'captain' whether they were actually a Captain or just a Lieutenant."

"I wouldn't do that." Responded Simmons, seeming slightly put out by either Vicenzo's tone or the reply itself.

"Well that makes you a simpleton, doesn't it?" Vicenzo said, teasingly.

"That's enough." Ambrose hissed, having heard enough of the diatribe that was unfolding behind her. The two junior officers obediently kept quiet and Ambrose was sure that she heard Lieutenant Roveck, standing in the middle of the group, sigh. If she wasn't giving out directions she would have turned and made fun of the Vulcan, as she so loved to do. But now wasn't the time for such actions, a point she had just made by telling Simmons and Vicenzo to, in so many words, shut up.

The away team rounded several more corners in complete silence. Roveck had his own tricorder out and was making mathematical calculations on it, no doubt relating to jamming fields. Ambrose was still feeding directions to Isson, who was in turn still leading with his weapon drawn.

"Okay," She said to Isson. "The hatch to the emergency ladder should be just down-"

She was cut off by the sound of a bulkhead door slamming closed behind her. She jumped, startled, and both she and Isson turned to see what had just happened. One of the doors had indeed slammed down behind Roveck, trapping Simmons and Vicenzo on the opposite side. The three officers approached the bulkhead.

"Simmons!" Ambrose shouted. "Vicenzo! Are you alright?"

There was a momentary pause that lasted minutes in Ambrose's mind before a reply came through from Simmons. "Aye ma'am, we're okay. Though I think Vicenzo almost had an actual heart attack."

"Hold on, we're going to try and open the door." Ambrose said, trying to reassure her two officers.

"Well, we're not going anywhere. The bulkhead behind us closed too."

She listened to the reply from Simmons but she already had the front panel for the door control off and on the deckplate, fumbling with the wiring in an attempt to short circuit the door controls and cause the bulkhead to open. She knew that it was probably going to take a few minutes, however.

"Roveck, see if you can find a way around." She said, almost absent-mindedly, without taking her attention away from what she was doing. She heard an acknowledgement from Roveck but didn't hear the actual words that he used. Ambrose heard his footsteps recede down the corridor and round a corner. It was a minute or so later that she heard the gunfire, coming from the other side of the bulkhead. She stopped what she was doing momentarily.

"Simmons! Vicenzo!" She shouted. "Report!"

Another few shots were fired and then she heard the unmistakable sound of Simmons scream, sending a shiver down her spine. Vicenzo's scream quickly followed.

"Get ready, Isson." She ordered without looking in the Bajoran's direction. She grabbed all the wires inside the panel and hoped to some higher power that this worked. She yanked them as hard as she could and noted a slight tingling sensation as sparks shot out of the control panel, covering her hand. It was successful as the door immediately slid upwards and open. It had happened so quickly that Ambrose hadn't even had a chance to see what was on the other side. She definitely didn't see what had caused the sudden biting pain in her neck, and had no explanation for why she suddenly felt light headed and fell to the ground. The last thing she remembered was the sound of voices in her head, which she thought was absurd.

"_You are the one we have been waiting for, Carolina Ambrose…_"

* * *

_Haldeman Research Station, D-Deck_

Chief Melzora and her team, which consisted of Lieutenants Cragg and M'Liss, had made their way up one deck. It had been difficult; thanks to the sheer size of Cragg they hadn't been able to simply climb up one of the emergency ladders and the turbolifts were, unsurprisingly, not functioning. The three person team had had to climb up the turbolift shaft itself, it being the only way up to the next deck that was large enough to accommodate Cragg. They could only climb up on deck, however, as there was a stationary turbolift blocking their path. Cragg had attempted to assure the security chief that he could have moved it, but the Andorian hadn't wanted to draw attention upon them, so they would exit the shaft on D-Deck and find another turbolift shaft. Despite his presence causing them to take a lot longer to head up to the Command Deck, Melzora was glad that Cragg was with them. He was one of those few people that Melzora was always glad was with them.

Melzora was first as they climbed the ladder and, when she reached the top and opened the service hatch that led to the deck, the sight caused her to momentarily stop. She could see down a long corridor whose walls were scorched black from phaser fire. There were also five Starfleet officers, lying on the deck and she couldn't tell from this range whether they were alive or dead. She quickly realised that she had stopped and blocked the path upwards for her teammates and quickly clambered out of the turbolift shaft. As soon as she was out of the shaft she unslung the rifle from her back and took a defensive position just to the side of the hatch, waiting for the two members of her team. Cragg climbed through next. It was a tight squeeze for the Brikar but the hatch was big enough, owing to the fact that it was a service hatch and was intended to be used to move heavy equipment when necessary.

When both Cragg and M'Liss were through the hatch, and Melzora was satisfied that they weren't about to be ambushed, she lowered her weapon. The Caitian doctor was already crouched beside one of the five prone bodies. Melzora noticed that her tail was swaying very gently from side to side.

"Are they dead?" Melzora asked the doctor as she approached her. M'Liss moved to examine some of the others.

"No, they all seem to be alive." The doctor was checking the officers' pulses. "Slow pulses. They seem to have been unconscious for some time."

"Anything you can do for them?"

"Without properly assessing their injuries, no." M'Liss replied, standing to her full height. "I wouldn't want to try anything without figuring out what's wrong with them. Without the use of a tricorder that will take some time."

"Do what you can." Melzora responded. She looked up and signalled for Cragg to stay where he was and cover the corridor that led in the opposite direction. She was surprised when she heard a loud clattering of metal on metal from around the corner. Both security officers instantly raised the weapons to readied positions. Cragg didn't move and Melzora pushed herself up against the wall. She edged her way to the corner and, very carefully, peered around the other side. She saw nothing.

"Stay here." Melzora said to both of her teammates. She spun quickly around the corner, aiming her rifle at head height and examined the corridor for a second. There was nothing out of the ordinary, except for more scorch marks on the walls. Very slowly, carefully and quietly; Melzora began to walk down the corridor. She swept left and right, keeping a look out for anything that might have caused the sound that she had just heard. She also kept her heightened Andorian hearing senses on alert, straining to try and hear anything out of the ordinary. By the time she heard the single footstep that gave away the person who had snuck up behind her, she could already feel the business end of TR-16 pistol jammed into the back of her neck.

"Tell me they didn't get you." A feminine voice that was dripping with rage said. The Andorian considered her options for a moment before lowering her rifle.

"I am Master Chief Petty Officer Melzora, of the _Archer_." She introduced herself, feeling like it was the thing to do since she didn't know who "they" were. She felt the woman's grip on the pistol loosen ever so slightly at the mention of the _Archer_.

"So you got our message..." The woman trailed off, still holding the security chief up at gunpoint. Melzora's fleeting hopes that the woman would lower her weapon after she introduced herself had faded and now she was wondering how she was going to get herself out of this situation. After running through several scenarios, most of which ended with her taking a bullet in the neck, she realised she wouldn't have to try and escape. The low rumbling of the deckplate was all the indication she needed.

"**Can I help you**?" Came a deep, booming voice. It almost sounded like a volcano had rumbled behind Melzora. She felt the pistol fall and turned to see Lieutenant Cragg standing waist to face with the security chief's would-be assailant. The woman's astonished gaze flickered back and forth between Cragg and Melzora. The security chief noticed that the woman wore a Starfleet uniform and looked like she had been to hell and back.

"Who are you?" She asked. It was at this point that the woman gave Melzora her full attention and the Andorian recognised her as a Centauran.

"Velora." She replied. "Lieutenant Ellinda Velora, head of nanotechnological research."

"What's going on here?" Even though the Lieutenant looked like she had been through enough, Melzora wasn't exactly in the mood to play nice. Especially after the young woman had just held a weapon to her.

"Is your ship here?" The woman asked in a rushed tone.

"Yes." The Andorian answered.

"Then we have to get out of here, we have to-" Melzora held up a hand to stop Velora from talking.

"We can't." She responded. "There are some kind of jammers up, we came over via shuttle. Look, Lieutenant, I need you to tell me what's going on here. Are you under attack?"

Melzora's line of questioning, and any answers that may have been forthcoming from the Centauran scientist, were cut short as the trio heard someone cry out in anguish from back around the corner that Cragg had just come from. The scream lasted only a second, before it was stifled. Melzora shot past Velora and Cragg and rounded the corner, and what she saw terrified her to her very core. One of the officers that had previously been unconscious was now very much conscious and had one hand wrapped around the Caitian's throat. From the other hand Melzora could see long, metal tendrils protruding from the attackers knuckles and buried in M'Liss's neck, who was wearing an expression of terror. The other four were on their feet and heading straight at Melzora.

When Velora and Cragg caught up to her, the scientist uttered the words that Melzora didn't want or need to hear;

"It's the Borg. We're under attack from the Borg."

* * *

Author's Note:

Nenifer121: The element of surprise can be a real bitch, can't it?

* * *


	12. Gut Instincts

_Chapter Twelve: Gut Instincts  
_

* * *

_U.S.S. Archer, Main Bridge, Deck 1_

The _Archer's_ main bridge was a hive of activity. Various officers were coming and going with reports for the department heads and assistant department heads that were staffing their stations. It was deceptively busy in the nerve centre of the starship. While junior officers were handing out PADD's, compiling status reports and generally making themselves busy; the senior officers were simply waiting. Captain Pressley had retired to his ready room and was consulting with Lieutenant Kor'vec over the operational readiness of the ships security department. Commander Nasar currently occupied the captain's chair. He had just approved the weekly requisition request, which had mostly consisted of new isolinear chips for Lieutenant Maylee Perisson down in engineering. The XO wondered if Commander Spock had to deal with so much bureaucracy when he was first officer of the _Enterprise_ under James T. Kirk. Nasar decided that Spock was probably too busy saving the Federation on a nearly weekly basis to have time to deal with requisition orders and computer parts.

As his yeoman, Crewman Malen Prast, walked off with the approved requisition order, Nasar afforded himself a glance at the viewscreen and the Haldeman Research Station. It had been twenty-one minutes since the away team had been sent across in the _Robert E. Lee_ and Nasar was starting to get nervous. The Commander wasn't sure whether what he was feeling might have been impatience instead, so he was opting for nervousness. Although it was unreasonable for him to expect the team to have disabled whatever was jamming the station in such a short space of time. In nine minutes the Captain was due to re-appear and, if the away team hadn't been heard from, give the go-ahead to Captain Parell and the Bravo team marine unit to be sent in.

Nasar spun his chair to the right and looked towards the mission operations station. It was staffed by the Chief of Mission Operations; Lieutenant (j.g.) Paul Castle. Castle currently looked as frustrated as Nasar felt. The XO supposed it was understandable; Castle's main role aboard the _Archer_ was to liaise with any away teams and co-ordinate between the mission commander and the ship commander. With the jamming field currently cutting the ship off from the away team, the Lieutenant literally had nothing to do.

"Lieutenant Castle," Nasar spoke up, causing several officers to look in his direction. "Has there been any fluctuation in the jamming field?"

"Negative." Castle said, the frustration that was evident on his face could be heard in his tone of voice.

"Lieutenant Commander Merrick," Nasar spun his chair one-hundred and eighty degrees to face the science station to his right. Sora Merrick, the Assistant Chief Science Officer, staffed it in Commander Ambrose's absence. "Any joy breaking through the jamming field?"

"No sir." The Centauran replied. "I've got engineering and science teams on it, but they haven't come up with anything yet."

"Keep me appraised." Nasar ordered.

"Aye sir."

He spun the Captain's chair back around and allowed himself another quick glance out at the research station, then at the chronometer that was above the main viewscreen. It was seven minutes now until the away team was officially overdue. Nasar, against his better judgment, allowed his mind to wander to the conversation he had chickened out of having with the Captain. He was disappointed that the _Archer_ had diverted away from their supply mission to Caitia, but at the same time, he was also relieved. He had not been looking forward to telling his best friend that he had been having an on-off relationship with his little sister for nearly eighteen years, never mind that he was planning to propose to her in a few days time.

"Commander." It was the voice of the _Archer's_ Communications Engineer; Lieutenant (j.g.) Kirsty Allerton, that brought Nasar back to the real world. He spun his chair to the right to face her.

"What is it Lieutenant?"

"We're receiving a communication from the station." She told him. Nasar smiled.

"Roveck must have brought down the jamming field." He said aloud to no-one in particular.

"Negative, the jamming field is still up."

"The message isn't from Roveck, sir. It's from a Doctor Angela Bannister." The two responses from Merrick and Allerton overlapped each other and the XO almost did not hear either. He tapped his comm badge instantly.

"Captain Pressley to the bridge, immediately." He said with some urgency in his voice. As the communication channel had closed he vacated the captain's chair and hoped that he would have some good news soon.

* * *

_U.S.S. Archer, Main Bridge, Deck 1_

Captain Pressley had been in the middle of asking Lieutenant Kor'vec to put together a list of names for a second away team when he had heard the call from his first officer. Both he and Kor'vec, who was the ships Assistant Chief of Security and Melzora's stand in while she was not aboard ship, stood quickly and went straight to the bridge. When the doors slid open and he stepped through, Pressley noted that Nasar had quickly vacated his chair. It was almost as if his friend was uncomfortable sitting in the "big chair" as he referred to it.

"Report." The Captain ordered. He saw Kor'vec take his position at tactical as Nasar sat in his XO's position.

"We're receiving a communication from the station. It's coming from a member of the station's crew, as opposed to one of our people." Nasar explained.

"The jamming field?" Pressley asked, sitting down in his captain's chair.

"Still up." The Captain raised an eyebrow when he was told this, and all he got was an agreeing look from his first officer.

"On screen."

"We're receiving an audio only signal, sir." Allerton piped up from her communications station. Pressley didn't respond, merely making a gesture for the young woman to put the signal through on the speaker. A beep and a nod from the communications specialist was all the indication that the Captain needed to know that his order had been carried out.

"I repeat this is the Haldeman Research Station to the starship _Archer_, please respond." The voice that spoke was that of a slightly high-pitched female, though there was some distortion coming across on the frequency that Pressley could hear.

"This is Captain Alexander Pressley of the _Archer_."

"Oh thank God!" Was the immediate reply by the woman, who did sound genuinely relieved. "Sir, this is Doctor Angela Bannister, I'm the head researcher here."

"What's the situation Doctor?" Pressley asked.

"We were attacked, sir." She began. "We were running an experiment with some advanced equipment for Starfleet Intelligence, like the jammers that are currently running. The Orion Syndicate must have gotten a tip about it, because they forced their way aboard."

Pressley shot his XO another puzzled look. Nasar spoke up next. "We don't see any damage to the station, Doctor."

"They must have been cloaked, because we didn't detect any ships before we were boarded." Bannister replied after a momentary pause. Nasar turned to Merrick.

"Run detailed scans of the area, try and find those cloaked ships, if they're still in the area." He said in a low, hushed tone being very careful so that Bannister did not hear him. Merrick simply nodded and then set about her task.

"We have an away team aboard the station." Pressley said. "Have you seen any of them?"

"Yes." Was the only reply after a pause that made both of the command officers very uneasy. They exchanged worried glances and Pressley knew that his first officers' gut instincts and his own were perfectly in accord. Something was not adding up in this situation. It was then that Pressley gave Nasar a very subtle signal. It was a signal that they had begun using when the Captain had first taken the Kobyashi Maru and they had perfected since then. Nasar nodded, understanding the meaning of the signal in this context, and left the bridge in a hurry.

"May I speak to Commander Ambrose?" Pressley asked as the turbolift doors slid closed. There was another long pause. He moved across to the Flight Control station that was being manned by the _Archer's_ Chief Flight Control Officer; Lieutenant Pel Amar; a Centauran. The Captain stood directly behind him and leaned against the back of the officers' chair.

"Commander Ambrose is in the Engineering section attempting to help disable the jamming field." Stated the scientist. "I have Doctor Vicenzo here with me."

"Put him on." Pressley ordered.

"Captain." Vicenzo spoke up. He could not put his finger on it, but Pressley could hear something different about the man's voice. It was very subtle and he would not have even noticed it but for the fact that every fibre of his body was screaming that there was something wrong with the entire situation.

"Report doctor." Pressley ordered.

"Sir, there are quite a few casualties over here." He began. "There are even more injuries. The invaders took the crew by surprise but their attack was quite brutal. With your authorisation, I would like to have some of the worse off beamed over to the _Archer's_ sickbay. The station's own medical facilities have been badly damaged."

"How would we do that, Doctor?" The Captain asked, not really talking to anyone specifically. "We can't lock onto anything on the station."

"We're transferring the data on the jamming field to your science officer." Bannister spoke up. "If we set up pattern enhancers around the wounded that we would like beamed over, and you use the information to enhance your sensors, you should be able to get a lock."

Pressley turned to face Lieutenant Commander Merrick for conformation, which he received when she nodded. It was then that that Lieutenant Amar spun in his chair. Pressley held a hand up to the Conn Officer to stop him before he opened his mouth and reported the information he had just seen flash across his console. He looked down at the Centauran and shook his head. Although it did not look like he understood what the Captain was getting at, he knew what the Captain meant. He span his chair back around and kept working at his station.

"We have a lock, sir." Merrick reported. Pressley stepped back from the Flight Control position and stood in the centre of the bridge, just in front of his chair. Not for the first time in his career, he really hoped that he knew what he was doing.

"Have the wounded beamed to sickbay." He ordered, then sat down in his chair and waited.

* * *

_U.S.S. Archer, Sickbay, Deck 8_

"_Incoming wounded being beamed directly to sickbay._" Came the disembodied voice of Lieutenant Commander Merrick over the internal comms system. Doctor Pembridge and her medical staff worked quickly, making room for the new arrivals. Personally, she always hated being put in this situation. They had been told nothing about what was wrong with the "wounded" that were being beamed aboard, nor had they been told how many there were or how critical the worst of them was. Luckily, with the ship being at yellow alert, most of her senior officers were already in sickbay.

"Lieutenant!" She called out to Lieutenant Grace Truman, who was the Head of Surgery for the _Archer_. She was across the other side of sickbay gathering the supplies she needed. "Are you prepared for emergency surgery cases?"

"Yes ma'am." Truman called out.

"Brahn." She let Truman go and turned to her Assistant Chief Medical Officer, Lieutenant Commander Brahn Soloko. Not only was the Trill her assistant, but he was also inheriting the medical department when she left for Earth. For the last few weeks she had been letting him run more and more of the medical department aboard the _Archer_, but now that there was a possible crisis she was keen to reassert her authority.

"Yes Doctor!" He called out. He was working with a medical technician and a nurse setting up various biobeds.

"Are we ready?" She asked. She knew that they were, but she wanted to make sure that they were both on the same page.

"We're ready." He shouted back and immediately returned to work. Pembridge touched her comm badge.

"Pembridge to bridge, we're ready to receive the incoming wounded."

"_Affirmative, standby for transport._" Was the reply from Merrick. Within seconds Pembridge heard the familiar whine of the transport sequence as the wounded were beamed into the centre of sickbay. She knew there was something wrong as soon as their patterns began to form, but she had no idea what it might be. By the time they had materialised no-one had really had a chance to move.

It was at that point that all hell broke loose.

* * *


End file.
